


Pretty Flowers Are Made For Blooming

by madamelibrarian



Series: Sister Winchester [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry John Winchester, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Brother/Sister Incest, Canon-Typical Violence, Car Sex, F/M, Female Winchesters, First Kiss, First Love, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Hanging Execution, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Parent John Winchester, Pining, Sneaking Around, Teen Dean Winchester, Teenage Drama, Twincest, Twins, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Wincest - Freeform, Winchester Sister, Young Winchesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-10-12 14:00:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 22
Words: 53,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10492431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madamelibrarian/pseuds/madamelibrarian
Summary: The Winchester twins, Dean and Maggie, have enough on their plates with keeping track of Sam and learning to be hunters, but then they had to go and fall in love.





	1. Chapter 1

## 

##  **Prologue**

The room was filled with the sounds of infants crying for their feedings. Gabriel, dressed in scrubs, walked through the rows of open hospital cribs. He was searching for one child in particular, he had to see her for himself. Her arrival had been foretold, along with her brother’s, and Gabriel always wondered that since he was no longer part of the rank and file of the host, if her creation would still come to pass. That was until he felt the tug of her shining soul, drawing him toward her. The tether that would always bind him to her, whether he chose to use her vessel or not.

Following the undeniable bond that was forming between them, he stopped at the end of a crib labeled ‘Winchester’.  Instead of one little bundle, there were two babies curled around each other. One wrapped in a pink receiving blanket and the other in blue. Smiling down at them, Gabriel leaned down and picked up the little girl and cradled her in his arm. He couldn’t help but chuckle when he brushed his grace against her soul, “Your mommy has a sense of humor. Doesn’t she, Magdelaine? Picking the ‘harlot’ of the bible for your namesake.”

Maggie blinked at the Archangel and gripped his finger tightly while making a series of little huffs that if one used their imagination, could be mistaken for laughter. Gabriel stroked a finger over her cheek, “You’re going to be a firecracker, aren’t you? I can see it. That means you’re going to need someone to keep track of you.” The little boy left in the crib who must be the soon to be infamous ‘Dean’ started fussing loud enough that it could bring another nurse. Not wanting to answer a ton of questions, Gabriel pressed a kiss to Maggie’s forehead and laid her back down next to her brother, whispering, “I’ll see you in a couple of years, my little Magpie.”

##  **Chapter 1:**

Flames burned hot and bright around her as the sounds of her mother’s screams echoed in her ears. Magdalene Winchester called out for her ‘mama’ as her twin brother, Dean, pulled her hand to try and get her to run with him. “Mama!” she screamed as she looked back a final time, her brother’s hand slipping from hers. When she reached out for him to catch up the ceiling collapsed, engulfing him and little Sammy in flames. Maggie ran toward the flames that had swallowed up her ‘boys’, intent on finding them when an arm wrapped around her waist.

“Maggie, wake up. This is just a dream. Wake up,” a voice said.

Maggie’s eyes snapped open and stared at the darkened ceiling as the night terror sweat cooled on her skin. The dream still vivid as she rolled over and curled up against Sam. The sound of his and Dean’s even breathing calming her. She looked down at Sam and smoothed a stray lock of hair from his forehead. Eleven years old and growing like a weed. She often wondered how tall her younger brother would be by the time he was graduated high school. Dean had had a growth spurt and was already five foot nine. A respectable height for a fifteen year old, but they both made her feel small. Bobby told her that she didn’t want to be a beanstalk and it always made her giggle.

“Mags?” Dean’s sleep thick voice sounded from other side of Sammy, low and careful so they wouldn’t wake their dad up in the next bed. “You okay?”

“Bad dream,” she whispered to him and tried to settle back into her pillow, but ended up restlessly shoving the flat bag of feathers around instead.

Dean sat up and looked over to the bed that held their sleeping father. This wasn’t the first time one of them had a nightmare. Maggie always seemed to take them the worst and would be in a funk all the next day if she didn’t get proper sleep. He scooted closer to Sam and lifted the edge of his blanket. “Come on. I’ll scare the dreams away.”

Maggie glanced back at John and sighed softly. She knew that they’d catch hell for sleeping without Sam between them. John had told her and Dean that they were old enough to not need other people to chase away nightmares. She’d tried but she couldn’t get back to sleep unless she was curled up with Dean. Crawling out of her side of the bed, she tiptoed over to Dean and slipped under the covers with him and cradled her head on his shoulder.

“Wanna talk about it?” he whispered against her hair as he tucked the blankets firmly around them.

She shook her head and closed her eyes. Content to let the terrible images fade away if she could make them.

“Then get some sleep. Dad’s leaving early and you know how he is when he’s packing for a hunt,” Dean murmured.

“Grumpy,” Maggie muttered as she tucked her arm between them and against Dean’s chest.

“Yeah, so go to sleep. We can’t be late for school,” Dean closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep faster than she would have expected. She laid there listening to her brother’s breathing until she slipped off into a dreamless slumber.

* * *

“Forty five days, Lou,” Maggie grumbled as she swung the stick she’d picked up from the ground at the high grass surrounding Singer Salvage Yard. It was a rare opportunity that she had this kind of time alone with her only friend other than her brothers.  “He wouldn’t even listen when I told him what happened.”

“What did he say?” Lou asked. His lanky legs outpacing hers so he had to take care to walk slower to keep up with her.

Maggie rolled her eyes and viciously swiped at the grass in front of her. “What he always says. ‘He’s gotta learn to be more careful, Magpie.’ I hate that fucking name.”

“Language,” her friend warned as he bit the corner of his lip to keep from laughing.

She whirled around and glared at Lou with the piercing irritation that only a fourteen year old girl could harbour. “FUCK! Fucking fuckers fuck fucks.”

Lou blinked at her in surprise then burst out laughing, “I think that was almost a complete sentence.”

“Butthead,” she muttered with a tilt of a smile at the corner of her mouth. “It’s just not fair. We were hungry is all and now I have to sleep alone.”

“What’s wrong with that? Plenty of people sleep alone,” Lou said as he continued walking, passing her in a few strides.

“I hate it,” she sighed, “It’s lonely without him. I mean I have Sammy but he’s just a little kid and it’s not the same. I miss him.”

“You’re starting to sound like a lovesick puppy dog,” Lou teased with a flash of a grin in her direction. Maggie sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and bit down as she watched her feet kick at the dust. Lou furrowed his eyebrows in concern at her sudden silence and stopped. “Maggie, what’s wrong?”

She curled her arms around herself like a hug, “I can’t tell you.”

Lou looked at her in shock. She’d always told him everything. From her achievements at school to her nightmares. She’d been telling him secrets and wishes for years and it was very odd for her to suddenly think that she couldn’t tell him something. Something that was obviously important enough or disturbing enough to make her like this. “Hey, you can tell me anything. You know that, I won’t tell.”

Maggie turned her bright green eyes to her friend and swallowed, “I love him, Lou.”

He squinted his eyes at her and shrugged, “So? Siblings are supposed to love each other. I have brothers, they’re dicks but I still love them.”

“No. I love him,” she sighed and looked back to the grass underfoot. “I love him like...Dad loved Mom,” she confessed the last in a small voice like admitting such a secret would break her or worse. Make Lou call her a freak or run away.

“Oh,” he said as he stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked back in the direction of Bobby’s house. Maggie certainly didn’t do anything by halves. Not two weeks ago she’d clocked a boy in the face for getting too handsy, shouting that she didn’t like ‘icky boys’ now here she was confessing that she was in love with her brother. It didn’t matter to Lou in the slightest who she loved or didn’t love. All he wanted was for her to be safe and happy.

“You hate me now. I looked it up at the library and I know what people say about it,” Maggie said. “But I can’t help how I feel, Lou. It doesn’t feel wrong to me.”

“Listen kiddo,” Lou said as he bent a little to catch her eye. “It doesn’t matter to me who you love. Love is love is love in my book. Just be careful. Not only with the obvious but…” he lifted his hand and pointed to the middle of her chest, “There too. Protect your heart as best you can but don’t hide from love. You feel what I’m saying?”

Maggie smiled wryly and nodded, “I feel ya. But you can’t call me kiddo. You’re only a couple years older than me.”

Lou straightened up and laughed, “But they’re a big couple of years.”

“Not that big,” Maggie looked back toward the house and sighed, “I should get back. Dad’s gonna come looking for me soon.”

“I know,” Lou said almost sadly as he took a step closer, “Listen, Maggie. You might not see me for a while. I’m..I’m going on a trip and I didn’t want you to think that I was skipping out on you.”

“A trip, where are you going? Somewhere fun like Mars?” She said with a grin.

“Yeah. Mars then Jupiter. All the big ones,” he chuckled in amusement. She always guessed the most outrageous destinations. But what could he expect, she thought he was her imaginary friend and he had nurtured the belief. He couldn’t have her guessing who he really was. It’d do neither one of them any good if a family of hunters started chasing after him, “You take care of yourself, Magdalene. And watch out for creepy guys with charming smiles. Nothing good ever came from those types.”

“Okay. Creepy guys. Check,” she said as she turned to head back to the house. A few feet away she turned and walked backwards while waving to Lou, “Have fun!” she called to him, thinking she’d see him again soon.

Lou waved back and smiled back brightly until her back was turned to him, then the smile faded along with the rest of him.

When Maggie returned to Bobby’s house, the older mechanic was standing there waiting for her, “Who were you hollerin’ at out in the field?”

Maggie looked up at him innocently and smiled, “Just an old coyote chasing a squirrel,” she said and went into the house.

* * *

Over the coming weeks Maggie kept her head down. Did what John told her and made sure Sam went to school, did his homework and training right along side her. It wasn’t until late at night when all was quiet that she’d stare at the weak light filtering in through the curtains from the lamps outside and she’d wonder what Dean was doing in the boys home. If he missed Sammy...or her at all.

When Dean finally came back to them, he seemed distracted. Like he wanted to be anywhere but back in the Impala with his family. He even went so far as to ask John to get a cot from the front desk of the hotel when they could, so he could sleep on his own. Maggie asked him about it after the fourth hotel and he said that they were too old to be sharing any more. She felt a little part of her crush at his explanation but she accepted it because she couldn’t let him know how much it hurt her or why.

That fall, they had settled down for a few weeks for a hunt which gave them a chance to go to a school steadily. She was even invited to a school dance by one of the boys in her class. It was an informal event where everyone would wear their ‘Sunday Best’. He was a member of the track team and had pretty brown eyes that sparkled when he laughed. Christopher was his name and he was a perfect gentlemen. Maggie had a good time dancing and laughing with her classmates while Dean secreted himself in the corner of the gym with one of the overly giggly girls from their class.

When the last slow song was beginning to fade Maggie and Christopher wandered to the other side of the gym, far away from the chaperones because he said he wanted to sit and talk. At first it was nice, they talked about movies they’d seen and the new ones that Maggie hadn’t gotten to watch yet. Mainly because money was tight and Sammy couldn’t watch the scarier movies yet, which she was grateful for. She’d never cared for horror flicks. Halfway through his explanation about the plot of Jurassic Park when he snuck his hand across her lap and took hold of it. She blinked in surprise and glanced down at their joined hands. His palms were sweaty and kind of cold. It reminded her of the descriptions she’d read at Bobby’s about vampires and for a quick moment she wondered if he could be one but shook off the thought because she’d seen him in the daylight and eating real food. Then he surprised her again when he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. The first thought she had was that he needed to some chap stick. His lips felt rough and too thin. Then he tried to shove his tongue into her mouth which felt entirely to slimey and gross to her but she tried to kiss back because that was what you were supposed to do with boys. Kiss them. But she wondered what the big deal was. There wasn’t anything thrilling or exciting about this at all. She couldn’t stop thinking about the way he was licking at her lips like an overeager puppy who’d discovered she had eaten bacon for breakfast.

She blushed in embarrassment when he broke the kiss and smiled at her. It was supposed to be special and in the back of her mind she wondered why it wasn’t. Thankfully the dance was ending and Dean was waiting impatiently by the door. “I’ve got to go, Chris. I had a nice time,” she said shyly as she stood from her seat, “I’ll see you in school tomorrow.”

“Sure,” the boy with brown eyes said and made like he was going to try and kiss her again. She turned her head just in time to avoid it and looked at Dean who was tapping his wrist to indicate they’d be late. Maggie quickly said her goodbyes and hurried to her brother as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“What the hell took so long? I’ve been waiting for five minutes,” Dean said impatiently as he held the door open for his sister.

Maggie sighed and stepped out into the hall, “I couldn’t be rude, Dean. You say goodbye to people who take you to a dance.”

“Okay, don’t get your panties in a twist,” Dean said as he caught up with her. As the passed the bathrooms he pointed at the boys room, “I’m going to take a leak. Don’t disappear because Dad is going to be waiting.”

She nodded and waved her hand dismissively as she leaned against the wall around the corner to wait. Her brother had been gone for a few minutes when Maggie heard voices coming down the hall. One of them was Christopher’s.

"Dude! You kissed her!? I heard she lives out of a motel room on the other side of town,"  one of the boys said. She ducked further out of sight and fought back the sting of tears. Maggie knew they were talking about her now and it hurt that a someone who’d said they liked her wouldn’t stick up for her. It was true, she and her family lived at a motel and always had, but that didn’t make her a bad person. She knew what bad people were and she refused to think she fell in that category.  

"Dad says only hookers and druggies live there," said a third voice, "Think Maggie’d let you touch her boob for five bucks?" All the boys, including her date laughed and shoved each other as if it were a good joke. Maggie didn’t stick around to hear anymore, she turn and ran out of the school as she choked back her tears. Seeing the Impala in the parking lot, she crawled into the back seat and curled up against the door.

“Have fun, Magpie?” John asked as he flipped through his journal. Sam was asleep in the passenger seat beside him.

Maggie shrugged and looked out the window, unwilling to tell her father that she’d had a great time but even less willing to tell him about the boys and what they’d said, “I guess. But I’m ready to go to bed.”

“Well as soon as Dean gets out here we’ll head back,” John said as he turned in his seat and lifted his journal up so she could see it, “In the morning I need you to finish that sketch of yours before I leave for the hunt, then you and boys can have the day to do maintenance on the spare blades and guns.”

Great, just want she wanted to do. Spend her Saturday oiling guns and sharpening knives. “Okay, Dad,” she said and repressed a sigh.

When Dean finally came out to the car he scowled at Maggie who gave him a subtle shake of her head, silently begging him not to ask in front of John. Dean squinted his eyes at her but remained silent as they rode back to the motel.

Later that night when John has left to meet up with another hunter to compare notes, Dean noticed that Maggie hadn’t come out of the bathroom from taking her shower. The water had stopped before John had left and it was worrying that she was still in there. Forty minutes was a long time for them to tie up the bathroom unless they were sick. Closing his book, he made sure Sam was still asleep and padded over to the bathroom door. Pressing his ear to the cheap, thin door he heard soft hiccups and sniffles, like someone trying to hold back crying. He glanced back at Sam and in order to keep from waking him up, Dean twisted the knob and slipped into the bathroom. “Mags?” He looked around the bathroom but didn’t see her, but the shower curtain was still drawn and there was the sound of wet skin squeaking on porcelain.

“Go away, Dean,” Maggie said softly as she tried to wipe the tears from her face, “I’m not dressed.”

Dean sighed and lowered the lid on the toilet, taking a seat to face the tub, “I’m not going to go away. Not until you tell me why you’re in here crying.”

“It’s stupid,” she replied with an obvious sniffle, “I don’t even know why I’m crying.”

“Did someone hurt you? Was it that dick, Christopher?” Dean’s voice cracked slightly, making the other boys name come out a higher pitch. The eldest Winchester sibling growled in irritation at his own voice betraying him with it’s need to make it’s change known at that particular moment.

“Kinda. Not really,” Maggie admitted in a small voice, “He kissed me.”

Dean frowned at his sister’s confession. He didn’t know why but the thought of some uncoordinated, creepy, dork like Christopher kissing Maggie made him feel nauseous, “Did you...did you like it?”

Maggie hugged her knees up her chest and shook her head. She really didn’t and she didn’t know how to admit to Dean, the guy who’d told her about his first kiss and how awesome it’d been, that she hated every second of her kiss with Chris and felt absolutely no attraction to him.

When she didn’t answer him, Dean snorted and tapped the vinyl curtain, “I can’t hear sign language, Mags.”

“I hated it.” She finally said as she wiped away a tear that slid down her cheek, “He was all...slimy and his lips were chapped. I thought I’d like it but I didn’t feel like they talk about on TV.”

Some part of Dean was relieved to hear this, he couldn’t explain why. It wasn’t like he wanted Maggie to be lonely but that was what he was for. He was her friend, her brother and he didn’t want some jock to mess that up. Dean stood up and grabbed a towel from the stack and shoved it through the edge of the shower curtain. “Come on out. You’ll catch cold,” he said gently.

Maggie took the towel from him and stood up on wobbly legs from having sat so long.

“So you’re upset that the kiss was bad?” Dean asked as he turned his back to give her a sliver of privacy as she stepped out of the shower with the towel wrapped tightly around her.

“It wasn’t just the kiss, Dean,” she sighed as she dried off and slipped on her pajama pants and an oversized tshirt. Tossing the towel in the corner to be taken to housekeeping later, she hugged her arms around her middle and whispered, “He said things.”

Dean slowly turned around with wide eyes. His mind was turning over the possibilities of the things that dickwad could have said to Maggie and each one made Dean want to punch his lights out, “What did he say?”

Maggie looked up at her brother and burst into silent tears. She knew he’d be angry when she told him and that he’d probably do something to get in trouble. He was always defending her, saying it was his job to take care of her and Sammy.

“Hey..hey..” Dean said in a rush as he pulled her into a hug, rocking her slightly as she buried her face into his shoulder, “Don’t cry. It’s okay.”

“No, It’s not,” she cried, “You’ll get mad an’ then get in trouble.”

“Well I won’t promise I won’t get mad but I’ll promise to try and not get into trouble,” Dean pulled back and gave her a little smirk, “Now what did he say?”

Taking a deep breath, she told Dean about what had happened while he was in the bathroom after the dance. The entire time she avoided looking at him directly.

“Those dicks!” Dean shouted when she’d finished, then quickly looked at the door to see if he’d woken Sam up. When he spoke again, his voice was much quieter, “I’m going to beat their asses good.”

“Don’t. It’s not worth it,” Maggie pleaded as she balled her hands up in the front of his shirt, “Just let it go. We’ll be leaving soon and then I can forget I ever knew them.”

Dean looked into his sister’s pale green eyes. The look she gave him was so earnest and sincere that he couldn’t help but give in to her. He seemed to always give into her. “Okay..Okay,” he consoled as he pulled back from their embrace, “It’s time for bed anyway.”

Maggie felt cold as soon as Dean let her go, but she followed him out of the bathroom resigned to sleeping without him again. When they got out into the room, Sam was starfished out on the bed and Maggie groaned inwardly. That position always meant he was going to a be a kicker later on. She made her way over to the bed in order to try and roll the boy over onto his side when Dean stopped her.

“Let him sleep. You can bunk with me tonight,” Dean nodded toward the cot set up on the other side of the room, “Save yourself from the bruises.”

Opening her mouth to question him on why he changed his mind, she snapped it shut just as quick. Instead she extracted her pillow from under Sam’s arm and laid down on the cot, tucking the blankets around her while Dean double checked the salt lines. When he’d finished, he clicked off the last light and crawled in beside her. At first they laid stiffly on their backs until she got uncomfortable and turned to her side with her back facing him. Thinking that this would be the way the night would go, she was surprised when Dean rolled over and draped his arm around her waist, making her the little spoon.

“Just so you know,” he whispered into her shoulder length blonde hair, “You're worth it. You deserve to have a guy kiss you and you like it. Someone who like… someone who’ll make you feel like there’s butterflies in your stomach. Like your on a hunt, only better.”

Maggie turned her head to stare at her brother, wondering if maybe… just maybe… then he kissed her once on her forehead and then her cheek, murmuring for her to get some sleep. But how could she sleep when she felt the butterflies come alive inside her.

* * *

The following Monday both Maggie and Dean were standing in front of John looking contrite under their father’s disappointed gaze.

“What did I tell you, Dean? No fighting in school. It’s real simple, son. Take care of the family and don’t get into trouble. I thought you’d learned your lesson after that home you were in?” John scowled.

“But Dad,” Maggie tried to defend Dean, like he had for her. But John turned a sharp eye in her direction.

“No buts, little girl. You’re just as bad. I don’t think it was necessary to put that boy in a sleeper hold when he was already down,” John pointed toward the couch when he’d finished, “You two are to sit and think about what you’ve done and in the morning, since your both suspended, will be going on the hunt with me. I finally tracked it down and need the spare hands anyway.”

“Yes, sir,” they both said in tandem as they made their way to the couch.

“And you’ll be doing extra sit-ups for a week,” John added as he sat down at the table and pulled out his journal to make notes and go over the ones he had.

Maggie went to protest but Dean’s hand on her shoulder stopped whatever she was going to say. For the rest of the afternoon, the twins sat on the couch waiting for John to tell them it was time to go.

Halfway through their time in exile, Maggie slipped her hand into Dean’s and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you,” she whispered so only he could hear her.

Dean smirked as he turned a sidelong glance to her, “Anytime, Mags.”

The hunt went well over all, the vengeful spirit was taken care of but not without injury to the hunters. Dean was sporting a decent-sized bruise on his arm, John had a black eye from a book that was thrown at him and a few minor scratches, and Maggie, well she had a shallow cut running along her back. The spirit had thrown her in a fit of rage and the branch she’d landed near had a sharp part that was hidden under the leaves.

As soon as they entered the motel room, John was calling out for Sam to get the first aid kit while Dean guided Maggie to the bathroom. “Is she okay?” Sam asked in a mild panic as he handed the kit to John.

“It’s just a scratch, Sammy. She’ll be okay once we clean it up,” the senior Winchester explained with a ruffle to Sam’s hair before going to the bathroom.

Dean met him at the door and took the kit from him, “I got this, Dad. You should clean those scratches up while I patch her up.”

John nodded as he turned and ushered Sam away from the door to keep him from crowding Dean while he worked.

Maggie had lifted her shirt to expose her back. “Is it bad?” she asked as she tried to twist her head to look.

Dean examined the wound and shook his head. “Just a bad scratch,” he pointed toward the vanity and patted the surface, “Get comfy.”

Sighing, Maggie leaned forward to brace her elbows on the edge of the sink, “Stupid stick.”

“Not the sticks fault you landed on it. Be glad it wasn’t glass or metal,” Dean said as he pushed her shirt up higher to get better access to the cut. Pulling what he needed from black pack, he spent a great deal of time making sure the scratch from free of any mud or other grime that could cause infection. Then feather light touches, he rubbed antiseptic cream around the edges and over the top causing Maggie to suck air through her teeth. “Sorry,” he muttered and picked up the gauze. When he’d finished he laid a gentle hand on her waist as he said, “All set.”

Maggie straightened up and lowered her shirt with a groan, “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Dean replied as he cleaned up and zipped the first aid kit shut.

Turning around, Maggie watched Dean for a moment as she worried her bottom lip. Now that they weren’t hunting the thoughts that’d been rattling through her head came roaring back. Thoughts of what it’d be like if she kissed Dean. Would it be like the kiss she had at the dance? An act that’d leave her feeling like there was something wrong or uninteresting. Or would it leave her with the same light and giddy feeling she got when Dean kissed her cheek that same night.  She peeked over his shoulder as John called their names, letting them know he was taking Sam to get them some dinner.

Dean left the bathroom to get his things so he could shower before everyone got back. It was a rare luxury when he didn’t have to fight for the bathroom and with Maggie’s injury, she wouldn’t be showering until morning. “If you need the bathroom, use it now. I’m going to shower before Dad gets back.”

“Okay.” Maggie said distracted by her thoughts as he came back to the bathroom.

Dean looked up and blinked when he realized she was still there, “Everything okay, Mags?”

She nodded and started nibbling her lip once more, “Just thinking.”

“About what?” Dean asked with a confused furrow of his brow. He was expecting her to talk about the hunt or what had happened in school, what he didn’t expect was for her to step into his personal space and press her mouth to his in a kiss, a real kiss. Her lips tasted like the fake cherry of the chapstick she used and they were warm and soft and perfect. He’d kissed a couple of girls since Robin, the guitar teacher’s daughter at the boys’ home, but none of them were like this. This was like coming home. He canted his head slightly to the side and slid his hand around her waist to hold her closer, but not pressing the kiss beyond the tender slide of lips.

Maggie had been a bit nervous about this, but once her lips met his, she never wanted to stop again. Unlike her previous experience with Christopher, there was a sense of need, of completion. But she had her doubts when Dean didn’t immediately kiss her back, then he did what she’d been hoping for. Maggie laid her hands, feather light, on his shoulders when he pulled her closer. This was perfect and everything she had wanted, but she needed more even if she didn’t know what more was exactly. She was just about to wrap her arms around Dean’s neck when he broke the kiss with a whisper, “Mags, Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah,” she whispered back, afraid to speak any louder for fear it would shatter the moment.

Dean’s green eyes tilted up to meet hers, his own filled with uncertainty, “Did you feel the butterflies?”

Maggie nodded slowly and ran the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip, “Did you?”

Swallowing hard around the nervous lump in his throat, “Yeah.”

She smiled shyly and moved in to kiss him again but was interrupted by the sound of their motel room door opening and Sam talking to John. Maggie gave Dean a fast peck of a kiss and hurried out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. Dean stared at the closed door as he tried to process what had just really happened. He’d kissed his sister, liked it and wanted to do it again. He was screwed on so many levels and probably none of them fun.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanksgiving came and went with Dean, Sam, and Maggie on the road so they ended up celebrating, weeks later, once they settled down in a low rent house on the outskirts of a new town. They had never had a real Thanksgiving dinner, but Maggie tried her best. She saved what money she could so she could buy the high quality roast turkey lunch meat from the deli counter and make her brothers a turkey sandwich. It wasn’t fancy but it had a bit of lettuce, tomato, and condiments from little packets she’d snagged at fast food joints as they traveled around.

When she put the sandwiches in front of the boys, Sam wrinkled up his nose as he peeked between the slices of bread, “How is this Thanksgiving? I thought there was supposed to be stuffing and mashed potatoes and stuff.”

“It’s Thanksgiving because we’re together,” she explained as she opened a fresh bag of potato chips, “And I’ll have you know that’s real turkey. Cost ten dollars a pound so you will eat it, be thankful and quit your bitching.” She leveled a stern look at her little brother and dumped a handful of chips on his plate, “There’s your potatoes.”

Dean popped a chip into his mouth and smirked at Sam. He always got a kick out of watching Maggie rip into Sam when he got his shorts in a twist about one thing or another. It always seemed to mollify the kid like it was right now.

Sam picked up his sandwich and took a bite, his eyebrows rising in surprise at how good it tasted. It actually tasted like turkey, not like the flat salty lunch meat they usually had.

“Be nice, Dean,” Maggie added as she sat down and took a bite of her sandwich.

“I am nice,” the older twin protested, “Aren’t I nice?” Dean turned to Sam for support.

“You have your moments,” Sam said around a mouthful of food.

“Don’t talk with your mouthful, Sammy. I don’t like seafood and I don’t want to see your food,” Maggie said as she scraped her sock covered foot across the floor toward Dean and rested it on top of his. This was something they could have while they were around others. Small touches under tables and small smiles when no one was looking.

“Sorry,” Sam mumbled and swallowed his mouthful before taking another.

Dean inhaled sharply when he felt her foot on his and turned a sly smile toward hers, “So you guys want to watch a movie after dinner? I saw that ‘Pumpkinhead’ was going to be on TV.”

“That’s a horror movie. You can’t watch a horror movie on Thanksgiving,” Sam pointed out and rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed by his brother’s taste in TV viewing.

Dean threw up his hand in exasperation, “It’s got pumpkin doesn’t it? And people eat pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving, so it’s a perfect movie for tonight.”

“I don’t like horror,” Maggie offered as she sucked a dollop of mayonnaise off of her thumb.

“Don’t worry, Mags. We’ll get you a pillow so you can hide behind it during the bad parts,” Dean shoved his sandwich in his mouth, taking a large bite, amusement twinkling his his eyes.

Sam shrugged as he gave in to Dean’s argument, “I’ll watch it, but we have to watch something Maggie likes later.”

Dean groaned, “She’s gonna pick a chick flick.”

Maggie’s head snapped up and she glared at her twin, “Will not.”

“You will. I know you,” Dean teased her, “Admit it. You love those movies.”

“They’re good stories,” Maggie lifted her foot and kicked him in the shin. Not really hurting him as it ended up being more of a nudge, “You know you like them.”

“Hell no,” he pushed his chair back to avoid another kick.

“Yeah you do,” Sam interjected, tossing a potato chip at Dean. That was the first shot fired and what started as a debate about movies quickly turned into a food fight were chips were thrown and at one point threw a piece of tomato that stuck firmly to Maggie’s cheek.

They all stopped and the boys waited for a blow up of indignant rage but what they got was their sister breaking out into a fit of giggles as she scraped the offending fruit from her face, “You two are dorks,” she said as popped the tomato into her mouth and wiped her fingers clean on the front of Dean’s shirt.

“Hey!” he cried out as he failed to stop her in time.

Maggie smirked at him and went back to eating her sandwich while the brothers looked at each other, wondering who’d won the fight.

Later that evening after they’d cleaned up their mess, the three of them curled up on the couch and flipped through the few channels the TV could receive without cable. Finally settling on some sitcom, Dean and Maggie sat with their sides pressed together while Sam laid down with his head cradled on her thigh. She gently stroked over her younger brother’s hair absentmindedly, enjoying the closeness and quiet of them together. But a thought in the back of her mind kept niggling at her, the thought that if Sam would just go to bed then she and Dean could spend some time without nosy little brothers. They had limited time with John returning in a few days and then they’d be on the road again.

Nine o’clock rolled around and the news had come on. Dean leaned over when he heard a soft snore and chuckled when he saw Sam with his face squished against her knee. “That can’t be comfortable.”

“For him or me?” Maggie asked as she gently nudged her little brother. “Hey Sammy, time to hit the hay.”

The pre-teen lifted his head with a drowsy blink and rubbed his knuckles into his eyes. “Time is it?” he asked with a croak.

“Time for bed,” Dean urged gently, “We got school tomorrow.”

“Yeah, m’kay,” Sam wandered away to his and Dean’s bedroom, stumbling a bit on his way. Maggie got up and followed him back, making sure he made it to his bed and removed his shoes instead of flopping like a dead fish on the the mattress. When she’d finished tucking him in, Maggie came back out to the couch in time to see Dean flip the channel to a late night monster movie. Sitting next to him, she reached over and laced her fingers with his. They watched the movie silently for a few minutes before Dean broke the silence.

“I liked the sandwiches,” He said as he turned to look at her. “They were good.”

Maggie smiled softly and leaned her head on his shoulder, “Maybe someday we’ll get a real turkey. With stuffing and mashed potatoes.”

“And pie?” Dean asked hopefully, his thumb starting to rub small circles over hers.

“And pie.” She replied wistfully. “Someday, just you, me and maybe Sammy if we can swing it before he goes off to college or something.”

“It’s a nice dream,” He murmured as he pressed his lips to the top of her head.

Maggie tipped her head back to meet his gaze. Her expression open and innocent as she looked into her brother’s eyes. “A really nice dream.”

In that moment it didn’t feel like what they had was strange or wrong. Here on this couch, in this house, it was just them. His Maggie, his other half and it felt like he was home. Bending down the barest amount needed, Dean pressed his mouth to hers in a sweet, tender kiss. Whether he realized it or not, this simple kiss spoke volumes of the love he had for her.

Maggie’s breath hitched when she felt the heat of his lips on hers, but quickly leaned up into the kiss, parting her lips ever so slightly to take his bottom one between hers. As soon as his free hand cupped her cheek, it was like a dam of want and need broke inside both of them. Twisting around so her head wasn’t at such an awkward angle, she curled her fingers into the front of his shirt and deepened the kiss.

Dean released the hand he was holding and wound his arm around her waist, pulling Maggie closer as he licked experimentally at her bottom lip.

Whimpering against his lips, she drew her leg up over his lap so that she was half way straddling him and opened up to him. Accepting every slip and slide of his tongue against hers and giving him a few in return.

Overcome with the urge for more, Dean eased her back until she was stretched out under him with her legs bracketing his hips. One hand resting on her waist and gently holding her while her warm arms wrapped around his shoulders.

“De.” She whispered as she pulled him closer, her hips rolling up against his in search of a something to alleviate the ache growing deep inside her. Her hands slipping from his shoulders and easing down his sides until she could tug at the hem of his shirt, her fingers brushing against the bare skin of his back.

Dean broke the kiss and looked down at her, a mix of apprehension and need shining in his eyes. The feel of her fingers on him were enough to make him realize what they were doing. Part of him didn’t want to stop. He wanted to hold her and kiss her, listen to the soft sighs she made and lose himself in the taste of her chapstick she always wore. But the other part of him that was more rational knew this was wrong. He shouldn’t be having these feelings for his own sister. He found that when he looked her in the eyes, he couldn’t say any of that. He couldn’t hurt her feelings, not with this. “Mags…I..”

Swallowing hard, Maggie saw the conflict in him playing over his face and nodded. “It’s okay, De. We should probably go to bed anyway.” She released her hold on his shirt and smoothed it back down before resting her hands on the small of his back. “I love you.”

Sighing, he dropped his forehead so that it pressed against hers. “I know.” he said before he pulled away from her entirely and sat back against the armrest. “I’ll lock up and check the salt lines.”

Maggie watched him move away and felt something tighten in her chest as tears stung her eyes. She’d just said she loved him and he pulled away. Swallowing away the feelings, she reminded herself that he had started to pull away before the words left her mouth. She wanted to say them, knew that he needed to hear it and didn’t really expect him to say it back, but it still hurt for the words to be left hanging in the air. Sitting up, she slowly stood and headed toward her bedroom. “Goodnight, Dean. Don’t forget to brush your teeth. You don’t want to have to visit a dentist under the table like I did.”

* * *

 

For the next couple days Maggie wasn’t her usual happy self. So much so that instead of seeking Dean during lunch at school, she would take a leftover turkey sandwich and sit by herself under a tree. She needed time to think about everything that’d happened between her and Dean. After that night on the couch, he’d come to her and they’d talked. He’d explained that he’d gotten scared about how quick they were moving and that they both needed to be very sure this is what they wanted. They both knew the situation was problematic at best, between keeping it secret from others and taking care of hunting and Sammy. Then there was John. She and Dean were at an age where dating would be looked for and expected, more so for Dean than her but the last thing they needed was John finding out from something as obvious as lack of dating. After a few tears on Maggie’s part it was agreed on that they would allow each other the freedom to see other people if the opportunity presented itself. Dean assured her that any girls he took out were props, so that they could maintain the appearance of normalcy and be together, but she would always be his “Maggie”.

It was all well and good in theory until it came to a head just before school let out the following summer. She and Sam had decided to go down the street to the arcade to play a few games while they waited for Dean to get back to their motel. He’d told them he had a date and wouldn’t be back for at least a couple of hours. Having won a couple small prizes, Maggie and Sammy headed back laughing and joking with the thrill of winning.

Opening the motel door Maggie froze when she saw Dean scrambling off the bed from making out with a half dressed girl. Her first instinct was to beat the hell out of the girl for daring to touch Dean but she squashed that feeling and took a deep breath. Clearing her throat she turned to Sam and handed him the last five dollars in her wallet. “Go down and get some sodas, Dean and me are gonna talk.”

Sam looked anxiously between his older siblings. Maggie always got upset with others when she thought someone was doing something inappropriate in front of him and he knew Dean was about to get an earful, and he wouldn’t be half wrong. She gave him a reassuring smile and he reluctantly left them alone.

The girl gathered her things and tugged her shirt over her head before heading to leave. “Call me,” she said with a toss of her red hair before she shoved past Maggie, giving her a smug smile.  

Once the redhead was gone, Maggie stalked over to her brother and shoved Dean so that he stumbled back. “How could you!? In our house,” she hissed.

“It’s not a house, Mags. It’s a crappy motel that Dad ditched us in,” Dean interrupted.

“That’s not the fucking point, Dean!” She all but shouted at him as she shoved him again so his back hit the dresser. “You promised to never do this in front of me and I’ll be damned if you do it in front of Sammy.”

“We have to maintain appearances,” Dean explained in an attempt to calm her as he straightening up and jerked on the hem of his shirt to put it back in place.  

“I know that! You don’t think I know that?”

Dean rolled his eyes and tried to walk away from her, “Do you, Mags? Because you’re acting like a jealous girlfriend.”

She stopped and glared at his back, her heart pounding as her chest heaved with deep breaths. “So you wouldn’t be bothered if you found me spread out on that same bed with a quarterback on top of me?”

Scoffing as he walked toward the kitchenette, “You aren’t the type,” he said coldly as he looked for something to eat even though he wasn’t hungry. He needed a distraction from her and her obvious pain at what he had done.

“Watch me!” She said as she stomped past him towards the door, grabbing her jacket on the way, “I’m sure I can find someone at the bar I could screw. Maybe even make a few bucks in the process.”

Dean slammed the fridge shut and turned to face her, leveling her with a glare. He knew she wouldn’t, no, couldn’t do something so cold and detached.

She pulled her hair out of her ponytail and fought back the tears as she yanked the motel room door open, intent on leaving like she said even if she never followed through on her threat. But it’d serve him right if she did.

Dean watched her walk out the door, everything in him screaming that he go after her before she did something dangerous or stupid, maybe both. However, he knew that if he did, it could have far reaching implications that could affect them all. He knew she was right, that he was wrong. Not only that, but she was his sister and meant more to him than his pride taking a hit in that moment. Barrelling out of the motel room he began to chase after Maggie. Seeing her bolting across the street and into the woods, Dean yelled, “Maggie! Wait!”

Hearing her name echo after her, she contemplated stopping but felt the need to walk, so she compromised by slowing her stride. “I think you said all you needed to,” she said when Dean caught up with her.

Grabbing her arm gently to stop her from walking away, Dean asked, “What do you want from me?”

Maggie looked up at him and took a ragged breath, tears filling her eyes and threatening to spill over. “I want..I want you. I want respect, because I’m not one of your girls who you can pick up and leave behind when we pull up stakes. You say I’m your “Maggie” but then you bring a girl to our room and do god knows what on my bed. Not yours, mine,” She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment before opening them again, a tear slipping down her cheek, “You’ll do all that when you won’t even kiss me or even talk to me anymore.”

Raking his hands through his short hair and wracking his brain for the right thing to say, Dean realized that he didn’t need the right words. Dropping his hands and gazing into her eyes that were shining with tears, Dean sighed and said, “I’m sorry.”

“Are you really or are you just trying to stop me from doing things just like you?” She asked softly, afraid to raise her voice again for fear she’d end up sobbing instead.

Closing the gap between them, Dean wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled into her sweet smelling hair. “I’m sorry, Mags. I really am.”

Maggie choked back her tears as she buried her face into his shoulder. “Don’t do that again, Dean. I can live with you seeing other girls but if I’m really yours then always come home to me.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

John’s announcement that he would be gone for another several weeks on a new hunt hit them hard since it came on the heels on an already long absence. The twins knew that weeks on end without John meant eventually they’d be trying to see how many variations of Spam or mac ‘n cheese they could come up with.

Within the first couple hours of the drive to Bobby Singer’s place in South Dakota, Maggie’s ire from her and Dean’s fight had started to finally wane. The whole situation left a sour taste in her mouth when she realized that she wasn’t mad at her brother anymore, but irritated at herself for reacting the way she did. She’d never been that jealous before but there was something about seeing him with a girl that grated her last nerve. Grabbing the old army blanket from the floorboard of the back seat, she draped it up around her shoulders and curled up in the corner against the back door and glanced at Dean sitting beside her before she forced her eyes shut. Sleep would improve her outlook or at least she hoped.

They stopped for gas when they were about ten hours from Bobby’s place. They all clamored out of the car and took care of traveling necessities, including John buying them each a soda and a large bag of M&M’s for the kids to share. Getting back to the car, Sam raced ahead of them to get a window seat leaving Maggie and Dean to decide who got to be the uncomfortable monkey in the middle. Maggie looked to her older (only by a few minutes) brother and he smirked at her, showing that he wasn’t going to budge. With an eyeroll and a playful shove, she got into the middle spot and tore open the bag of candy. As her family got settled around her, she chewed a few pieces and thought back to Lou and how she hadn’t needed him around like she had in the past. It made her wonder if she’d finally grown out of the need for having an imaginary friend.

“Sharing is caring, Mags.” Dean teased, as he snatched the bag from her hands and dug a handful out for himself. Maggie doesn’t get a chance to take the bag back when Sam leaned around her to grab it from Dean.

“Yeah, Dean. Sharing,” Sam said with a grin, when he won the small game of tug-o-war and rewarded himself with a mouthful of chocolate.

Dean was about to start an all out wrestling match in the already close quarters they were in when John reached back and tapped the passenger head rest. “You kids settle down or we’ll be pulling over for a conversation. Understand?”

All three of them went perfectly still and the boys slinked back to their respective sides of the car. John had only pulled the car over once for a ‘conversation’. The twins were eight and they kept fighting over a book. John had pulled over and gave each of them a swat on their bare backsides right on the side of the road. It’d hurt more than their skin, it’d hurt their pride too. Their father had yelled but never struck them before and it’d made a lasting impression on them ever since. Even Sam, who’d only been four at the time.

They chorused a “Yes, Sir.” and quietly shared the candy. After a while Maggie grew bored with watching the road race toward them through the windshield, so she closed her eyes and laid her head on Dean’s shoulder. Dean packed the leftover candy away and rested his hand on her knee.

Halfway to their destination, John finally stopped for the night. Turning in his seat, he smiled at the sight of his kids curled around each other as they slept. The twins leaning against one another with Dean’s arm wrapped protectively around his sister and Sam snoring lightly with his head pillowed on Maggie’s leg. H er hand curled on the back of his head in his long hair, probably from where it’d stopped mid-stroke when she drifted off. John did feel a brief stab of regret that they had to live like this. _Need to get that boy a haircut,_ John thought, realizing how ridiculous the thought was considering their lifestyle. He couldn’t give them a real home and constant bed to sleep in but he kept them safe, even if that meant sacrifices on all their parts.

John let them sleep as he went to the front desk to check in, when he came back he carefully opened Sam’s door and scooped the boy up into his arms. When Maggie felt the weight of her younger brother shift, she woke with a start, quickly followed by Dean. “Easy guys,” John whispered, “I’m just going to take Sam in. You two grab our stuff.”

“Yes, Sir,” Dean replied as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

John nodded and left the twins behind to take care of the luggage.

Watching their father go, Maggie let out a yawn and a stretch that arched her back up against Dean’s arm. That’s when she notices she was being watched. Looking up she saw that Dean was smiling at her, “What?”

“Nothing. I was just wondering if you were still mad at me,” Dean said as ran his hand along the curve of her shoulder. He’d had an ample amount of time to think on this drive and the one thing he kept coming back to time and time again was that having Maggie angry at him was one of the worst feelings he’d ever felt. He missed their joking and teasing and on a rare occasion, stolen kisses.

Maggie shook her head, “No. I’m mad that I acted like those girls I’ve always hated. Jealous and bitchy. I know we can’t… so I just need to accept you’ll have other girls in your life.”

“You're allowed to feel jealous, Mags. Just try not to go psycho on me. Okay?” Dean murmured, “Besides, there may be girls but they’re not _my_ girl.”

“Oh yeah? Then who is?” Maggie asked quietly, afraid of what his real answer would be. What she hadn’t expected was for him to lean down and kiss her softly. His hand coming up from her shoulder to cup her cheek. His lips were warm, gentle and still tasted a bit like chocolate.

Dean reluctantly broke the kiss and left a parting one on the tip of Maggie’s nose, “We better get going before Dad comes looking for us.”

Maggie ran the tip of her tongue along her bottom lip and nodded. She knew he was right but she didn’t want this moment to end. It wasn’t until Dean gently pushed her up that she got moving. Gathering their gear, Dean and Maggie headed to their room sneaking sly glances and playfully shoving each other all the way to the door. Before they entered, Dean held up a finger in warning, “Be cool. Right?”

“Cooler than you,” Maggie said with a wink.

Opening the door they set their bags beside the beds and move quietly around the room helping John to secure it for the night. Once they’re in bed, Dean on a cot beside the bed Maggie was sharing with Sam and her facing her older brother, she snuck a hand out from under the covers and held it out between the beds. Dean gave her a small smile before weaving their fingers together and drifting off to sleep.

* * *

Their arrival at Bobby’s the following day was a mix of emotions, but as soon John left that night it felt like a weight had been lifted from their collective shoulders. They quickly got into a summer routine of sleeping in late, random chores around the garage and house and evening runs. They all knew John would expect them to stay in shape once he got back. It was on one of the longer runs that took them near the trees at the back of Bobby’s property, that Dean saw something interesting. An old, worn tree house. Sam and Maggie were ahead of him so he didn’t get a chance to show them. By the weekend, he still hadn’t had a chance to tell them and put it out of his mind.

On Sunday afternoon, Sam refused to leave the copy of _Lord of the Rings_ that Bobby had given him. After a full day of watching nearly every VHS tape they could find, the twins were restless. So Maggie slipped on her shoes and told Bobby that she was going for a walk around the yard. She hadn't made it a hundred feet from the porch when Dean caught up. As soon as they were out of sight, he took her hand in his and tugged her deeper among the cars.

“And where are we going?” she asked with a giggle.

Dean flashed her a grin and turned sharply toward an old rusted ‘57 Chevy Belair, “You'll see,” he opened the back door.

“A rusted car? You want to show me a rusted car,” Maggie looked over the vehicle and wondered if Dean’s love of old cars had finally gone too far where he'd think looking at something so decrepit would be fun.

He took a step into her personal space and wrapped his arm around her waist’ pulling her flush against him, “It's what's _in_ the car.”

“And what's _in_ the car, Dean?” she asked, having a good idea what he had on his mind from the way he was looking at her. Like she was a favorite dessert that he'd just found sitting abandoned on the counter.

“Privacy,” he said simply as he kissed her soft and quick, “I've been thinking about that kiss in the parking lot. Can't get it out of my head. So I thought we could come out here and… _you know.._.”

Maggie blushed faintly as she ran a finger along the collar of his t-shirt, a coy smile edging at the corner of her mouth, “Make out?”

Dean nodded and slipped his hand under the hem of her shirt, feeling the unbelievable smooth skin of the small of her back, “Wanna?”

Her heart pounded in her chest at his question and the feel of his hand on her bare back. They’d not done something like this since the first time on the couch when he'd pushed her away. Maggie didn't know if she'd be able to handle a rejection like that again, but she wanted this. To feel him close to her like that again. Throwing caution to the wind, she nodded.

Ducking into the car, Dean scooted across the seat and beckoned her inside. Maggie took one last look around and quickly followed. When she'd shut the door behind her, Maggie turned to her brother and smiled as she moved in closer and leaned into his side, “Wanna know a secret?” she whispered.

“Sure,” he replied in an equally low voice, his fingers starting to lightly caress along her arm.

A shiver ran up her spine her as she felt the skin on her arm pebbling at his touch, “I've thought about that kiss too… a lot.”

“Oh, yeah?” Dean asked, his eyebrow raising hopefully.

Maggie nodded and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, “Uh huh, wanna know what else?” She asked, feeling a little braver when he didn't move away from her.

“What else?” A breathy sigh escaped him when her lips touched him.

She bit her bottom lip as she gathered further courage to trace her lips along his jaw, up to his ear and whisper, “I touched myself while I thought about you.”

A gasp fell from Dean’s lips as he pulled back to look at her, surprised that she would admit something like that. Sure, everyone in their family knew that showers equated to ‘private time’, but it was just that, private; you didn’t talk about it. When he saw the open and vulnerable expression on her face, he couldn't bring himself to chastise her for giving him that information. Truth be told, the knowledge sent a thrill through him that had his already swelling cock harden until he could feel the throb of his own pulse. Cupping either side of her face, he closed the distance between them and took her mouth in a heated kiss.

This kiss, in Maggie's mind was so different from the others they'd shared or even the one from that guy at the dance whose name she didn't even bother to remember any more. It wasn’t scared or hurried or wrong. To her, their lips pressed together felt good and right, like they'd been made _for_ each other. It was a feeling she could get used to and if the caring way that Dean moved his lips against hers were any indication, he felt the same.

Her dirty thoughts were brought back to the here and now when she felt her brother’s hand settle on her hip and slowly inch its way up and under her shirt. With a breathy moan against Dean’s lips, she curled her arms around his neck and pressed her chest against his. He hesitated at the bottom of her ribcage, pulling back from her seeking mouth, “You can tell me to stop if you want,” he whispered in the rapidly heating car.

Maggie shook her head as she looked into Dean’s eyes, grasping his wandering hand and placing it on her bra free breast, her eyes fluttering shut at the new, tingling sensation that seemed to start at his hand and end between her legs, “I want you to touch me, De.” She opened her eyes and licked across her bottom lip as she slowly lifted her shirt over her head, revealing the tan lined curves of her breasts to Dean for the first time, “I want everything you give the other girls.”

“Everything?” Dean asked, his hand gently massaging her breast

Maggie nodded with a whimper as she shifted in her seat to try and alleviate some of the tingling throb in her groin. “Want you to be my first, De. Not some sweaty jock who doesn't love me or care.”

"Maggie," Dean whispered, his eyes fluttering down as he kept up the gentle massage. Unable to say anything else, he leaned in for a deep kiss with her, keeping his touch on her breast light.

Humming into the kiss, Maggie greedily sucked on his tongue when he eased it into her mouth. Her hands winding their way into his hair, urging him on for more.

Dean slowly eased his way forward, using his body to push her back until she lay on the seat beneath them. Her legs falling open to reveal a darker patch on the sky blue cotton of her shorts where her arousal had started to soak through. Sitting back on his heals, Dean pulled off his shirt and dropped it down with hers and then bent down to kiss the swell of her breast. Taking the tiny bud that stood stiff and erect between his lips, he sucked gently, rolling his tongue over it.

“Oh god. Dean… feels good,” Maggie groaned as she arched up into his mouth. The ache in her center intensifying with each passing moment.

“You like that?” He asked with interest as he looked up at her with spit slicked lips. The girls he had been with seemed okay with it but none of them had outright told him it was good.

Maggie carded her fingers through his hair and pulled him up so that they were nose to nose, “I’ll always tell you if I don’t like something as long as you do the same for me,” she explained as her free hand grazed down to the front of Dean’s shorts with just enough pressure to make him buck forward with a groan. Maggie’s breath caught in her throat as she felt the hot length of him in her palm and she kissed him once more, drawing him down as she worked her hand under the waistband of his running shorts. Wrapping her hand around his cock as she slowly slid her hand along his length.

“Dammit Maggie, w-where did you learn…” Dean’s question was cut off by a moan as she twisted her wrist so his cock head slipped into the tightness of her palm.

“I read, Dean.” She pulled his cock free of his shorts, pushing the garment over his hips. Peeking down between them, her eyes widened at the her first glimpse of Dean hard and wanting. A drop of precum glistening on his tip. Her hips instinctively lifting as if inviting him in.

Dean pulled her hand away with a hiss, knowing that if she kept up what she was doing he’d cum in a matter of minutes. She gave him a confused look and he kissed away her frown. “Don’t worry, I’m not telling you to stop,” he sat back and started to work her shorts down her legs, “I want to try something else.”

“Like what?” Maggie asked breathlessly as she watched him spread her legs open once her shorts were gone leaving her in nothing but a simple pair of white panties.

Looking down at his sister with her green eyes wide with desire and trust, he found that he didn’t want to just get off and be on his way. He wanted her to like this just as much. Smoothing his hands along her thighs going higher and higher until he could graze his thumb across her cloth covered mound.

“Oh,” Maggie gasped as she pushed her hips up.

“Good?” Dean asked softly as he kept his touch gentle, running his thumb along her sex.

“Yeah,” she breathed out as he shifted to stretch out beside her, his hand slipping into her panties.

Dean kissed the corner of her mouth then her lips as his fingers stroked along her slit. Her slick coating his finger as he spread her lips and began to tease her clit. When he felt Maggie squirming beneath him, he pushed a finger into her causing her to make a sound that nearly had him cumming in his shorts.

Maggie clutched his shoulder and ground her hips into his hand, the pleasure building in a way that she’d only accomplished on her own once or twice. It amazed her how quickly she was climbing toward her peak.  Grasping the hand buried between her legs, she guided his thrusts until she was gasping and crying out while her body spasmed around his finger.

Working her through it all, Dean realized how much his cock ached as he ground his hips against her hip. “That was awesome,.” he praised as he withdrew his finger and wiped it clean on the seat.

“It was,” Maggie said with a dopey smile, then she noticed Dean was still hard, “Do you want...” her voice seemed to fail her as embarrassment took over.

“God yes,” Dean sighed as he dropped his head to her shoulder.

Sitting up, she removed her wet panties with a grimace and pulled Dean over to take her place. When he was laid out flat, Maggie straddled him, trapping his cock between his stomach and her soaked pussy.

Dean’s eyes widened as he grabbed her hips. To say he was shocked by her move would have been downplaying it, “Maggie! What are you doing?”

She grinned down at him and ground her sex along his shaft, “I saw it on a movie once. Don’t you like it?”

“Oh god...” he groaned and against his better judgement, started thrusting up against her, “It feels so good but… but….”

“It’s okay, De, ” Maggie said, kissing him softly as she swiveled her hips in tight circles, “I won’t put it in, I’ll just do this...”

Dean looked at her sitting on top of him and letting out small whimpers as she rode the bottom of his cock. Her name was the only thing he could say as he felt the pleasant pressure coiling deep in his groin. When he didn’t think he could take anymore, he felt the first spurt of cum shoot from the end of his cock. Followed by another until he was moaning and panting as he gripped her hips and pulled her down, his body shaking under her as he rode out his orgasm.

Maggie looked down and grinned when she saw that there wasn’t a drop of cum near her. Sliding down until she was straddling the top of his thighs she laid down on top of him, not caring at the moment if she got her stomach as messy as Dean’s.

He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, holding her and enjoying the feel of her sweat dampened skin as he let his heart slow back to normal. A small prick of apprehension started to rise up inside him as a whole onslaught of questions bombarded his mind. Did she like what they did? Where they careful enough? Did she really mean what she said about her virginity? The last one he wasn't so sure about because he'd never been with a virgin, that he knew of. He'd always gone after the girls who seemed to have a little more experience and he'd heard stories around the locker rooms from other guys about the first time hurting girls. The last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt Maggie.

“You're quiet. What are you thinking about?” Maggie murmured as she propped her chin on his chest with only her hand to cushion it.

Dean shook his head and smoothed a hand over her hair, “Stuff. Nothing too important.”

“Stuff? Stuff like what we just did?” Her eyes flicked down to stare at the soft blond peach fuzz of hair on his chest, not wanting to see the possibility of rejection. She wasn't stupid, she knew that what they were doing was taboo and everyone they knew, even Dean, would think they were sick for even considering this. But he was the one who brought her out here, the one who suggested it. She had to have a little faith that her own brother wouldn't use her and then turn on her for it.

He tilted her face up and kissed the tip of her nose, “The awesome stuff we just did.”

Maggie smiled and kissed him quick before nuzzling against his neck.

They laid quietly for a few minutes before they heard Bobby’s gruff voice shouting, from an uncomfortably close distance, for them to come back to the house. The twins peeked up through the rear window and looked around for their uncle, each of their hearts pounding in panic at being found like this. Dean nudged Maggie’s side and fished around for her clothes, tossing them to her. Dressing in record time they snuck out of the car and took the long way around the yard, holding hands for a while until they got closer to the house. Then they were running, shoving and spinning each other around to try to get ahead of the other until they stormed up into the kitchen out of breath and smiling.

Bobby paused chopping vegetables for the stew he was making and eyed up the teenagers, wrinkling his nose when he caught a whiff of their sweaty bodies, “I don’t know what you two are doing running around on a scorcher like today but you better hit the showers before dinner.”

“She’s getting slow,” Dean teased as he passed her and headed into the house.

Maggie’s eyebrows raised up as she tried to keep from looking too nervous about Bobby figuring out what they’d really been doing, “Being quick isn’t everything, Dean. The tortoise always wins the race.”

“Yeah, but get a tortoise on their back and they’re screwed,” Dean shouted from the living room.

Bobby shook his head with a chuckle, “I knew you two paid attention when I told you those stories,” he smiled at her and nodded toward the living room, “Get cleaned up. Dinner in thirty minutes.”

Not wasting another second under Bobby’s possible scrutiny, she hurried upstairs to her room and shut the door behind her. Once alone, she leaned against the door and let out a sigh of relief. This whole thing was going to be harder than she thought with the old hunter around.


	4. Chapter 4

 

 

“This is so cool!” Sam exclaimed as he looked up at the treehouse with a smile, his twelve year old mind spinning with the possibilities of having a treehouse of their very own for the summer.

Dean patted him on the back and then ruffled his little brother’s hair, “I told ya, Sammy. And you said it was going to be a stupid fort like we had in Kentucky.”

“I liked the fort in Kentucky,” Maggie said as she circled around the tree and tugged on a few of the boards nailed into the trunk as a makeshift ladder, “Do you think it’s safe?”

“Of course it’s safe,” Dean assured her, picking up the bucket of nails and the few hammers he’d borrowed from Bobby and walked up to the tree to tighten the loose boards.

Sam frowned at his sister as he crossed his arms over his chest, “You only liked Kentucky because we always played ‘House’. I hated being the baby, you always made me take naps.”

Maggie snorted out a laugh and pulled her little brother into a loose headlock, “That’s because you were a baby back then. It was five years ago, kiddo.”

“Still, I’m not a baby and we’re not playing house,” Sam said with finality as he squirmed out of her hold and started to help Dean.

For the rest of the week the Winchesters spent their afternoons fixing up the treehouse so they wouldn’t fall through the floor or get wet when it rained. Bobby even came out from time to time to lend a hand when boards needed cutting and to make sure that they weren’t doing more harm than good to his old hideaway.  It was the most fun they’d had all summer. They laughed, joked and didn’t once talk about hunting. It was as close to a normal, carefree life as any of them had gotten. Dean and Maggie even found a few moments when they were left to themselves to steal a few hurried kisses.

Once the work was complete, Bobby helped them pack up a few supplies for the four of them to have a campout. The plan was for Bobby to sleep in a tent at the base of the tree while the ‘kids’ slept in the treehouse. Dean used his personal duffle bag to carry a spare set of clothes for him and his siblings, so they wouldn’t have so much to carry.

By late evening, they’d set up camp and sat around a small campfire Bobby had built, stuffing themselves with s’mores and hotdogs. Maggie had been fascinated when Bobby showed them how to make a curly dog by splitting the ends of a skewered hot dog and charring it in the flames. Dean couldn’t take his eyes off his sister as she moaned around the first piece she ate and declared that it tasted just like bacon. His mind turning to more lascivious ideas.

That was the beginning of the end of the camping trip, at least for Sam.

The younger boy was so excited for the s’mores that he ended up gorging himself on the treat until he was groaning in discomfort.

“Dude, I told you to lay off on the chocolate,” Dean said, sucking the last of the hotdog grease from his fingers.

“Bite me!” Sam grunted as he rolled over onto his side to try and get comfortable while Maggie rubbed his back in soothing circles.

“Maybe we should go back,” she suggested as she looked to Bobby, “At least we can give him something for his stomach at the house.”

Bobby shook his head and got up from his lawn chair, “No use for you two to break camp for a stomach ache. I’ll take Sam back and he can sleep it off. It’ll save my back from having to sleep on the cold ground.”

“Are you sure?” Dean asked apprehensively.

“I’m sure. You got that rifle to keep you safe, just fire a few shots in the air and I’ll come runnin’,” Bobby helped Sam up and patted the kid on his back, eliciting a mighty burp from his small frame, “Better out than in, kid.”

“But he’s our responsibility,” Maggie protested, part of her feeling like she’d be failing her father and her little brother if she or Dean weren’t the ones to care for him.

“Well, I’m giving you the night off. Now stop arguing, it’s a belly ache, not a bullet wound. Think of this as a survival exercise, at least that’s what I’m gonna tell your Dad.” The older hunter nodded toward the fire, “Make sure you douse that before you turn in and keep that rifle close.”

The twins were stunned when Bobby walked away from the camp with their brother in tow. No one had ever told them that they didn’t have to take care of Sam and it left them reeling for a moment. Like someone had revealed that Santa wasn’t real all over again.  

“Well, what now? Telling ghost stories seems kinda lame considering,” Dean said as he watched the flames dance around the logs.

Maggie sat down beside him and twined their fingers together. It had occurred to her that they were alone and after all the sneaking around they'd been doing this could be their chance to do more than grab a hurried kiss behind a tree. Of course she wasn’t going to suggest it out right. “We could sing or do something else.”

“Like what?” he responded absentmindedly until Maggie closed the distance and pressed a small kiss to his cheek.

“We’re all alone, doofus. We could do anything we want as long as we don’t start a fire or die,” Maggie murmured, marvelling at how clueless Dean could be sometimes. She figured if he was going to be that obtuse she'd have to be more direct.

Dean turned to look his sister in the eyes and a slow smile crawled across his face, “You’re right. We are alone.”

“And I was wondering if you’d like too…” Maggie asked as she grazed her hand up his thigh, “play house?”

It took a second for her meaning to register with Dean but when it did, he laughed at her word choice. “Play house, Mags? Are you seriously asking me if I’d like to make out that way? You’re such a dork.”

Maggie had been trying to be alluring or at the very least, not crude about it and his laughter at her word choice only managed to piss her off. “You don’t have to be mean about it,” She tugged her hand away and moved to go to the other side of the fire.

Dean reached out and grabbed her arm before she’d gotten her butt off the ground, pulling her to him. He kissed her quick and then once again with more delicacy, prolonging the contact until she relaxed against his chest. Once he felt that she wouldn’t try running away again, he ran his fingers through her strawberry-blonde hair and said softly, “I’m sorry, Mags. I shouldn’t have laughed, besides I have a better idea.”

“And what’s your oh so better idea?” Maggie asked with a challenging look.

“Help me put out the fire and I’ll show you.” Dean stood and held out his hand for her.

Taking it, they quickly doused the fire and then Dean was leading her up the ladder of the treehouse where a single lantern burned for light, making the inside look warm and inviting.

Now that Dean had her here, he felt nervousness prick inside him. The idea of what he’d been about to propose was something that he’d thought about often enough after seeing it on a very late night cable channel. Every girl he’d been out with had refused him, saying it was weird or dirty. Sitting in the pile of sleeping bags that had been laid out earlier, he motioned for her to join him. “I’ve got a question and it might sound stupid but just hear me out. Okay?”

“Okay,” Maggie sat down in front of him with a worried frown.

“You know how you said you wanted me to be your first?” Dean’s voice almost sounded shy as he spoke but he held tight to her hand, running his thumb along hers. Maggie simply nodded, giving him the courage to continue. “Well, there’s something I’ve never done that I want to try, if you’ll let me.”

“Try what?”

Dean licked his lips and looked deep into his sister’s eyes and mentally prepared himself for her refusal, “I’d like to try… going down on you.”

Maggie sat there for a moment, blinking at him like a confused owl. She wasn’t ignorant about sex, she knew exactly what he was asking for but she had a hard time believing that he’d never had a chance to do that with anyone. “So I get to be your first too?”

Flushing a slight tinge of pink, Dean nodded and averted his eyes away from her, “Do you want to?” He didn’t have time to worry about her answer for very long when he was bowled over by her pouncing into his arms and kissing him soundly.

“Dean Michael Winchester,” Maggie said in between kisses and fumbling with his shirt, “That’s the best idea you've had all day.”

Smiling into the kiss, Dean rolled them over until he was hovering over her and deepened the kiss, his thigh slotting between Maggie’s legs and pressing up against her. He had to keep reminding himself over and over as their touches became more urgent that this wasn’t some backwater cheerleader looking to piss off her parochial father, this was someone dear to him. Even if he couldn’t say those three words back.

Maggie’s hands pushed at his shoulders as she broke the kiss, “Dean, wait,” she panted.

“What’s wrong?” Dean asked in a rush as he lifted himself up so that he could look at her, wondering if she was changing her mind.

She smiled and kissed the tip of his chin, “Nothing’s wrong. But I want to see you. Really see you,”  She rolled out from underneath him and stood up. Tugging off her shirt to reveal the simple white bra underneath, she tossed the shirt to the side, “Now you.”

Catching on to Maggie’s idea, Dean stood and followed her lead. Each piece of their clothing joining the previous one on the floor until they were both dressed in nothing but their underwear. Dean’s eyes roamed over her figure, appreciating the slim curves of her hips and chest. “It’s no fair,” he said in a light teasing tone, “You have more on than me.”

“That’s easily fixed,” Maggie said as she reached behind her and unclasped her bra, easing the straps off her shoulders, she let it fall to the floor.

Dean’s eyes were drawn to Maggie’s breasts, they weren’t large or of the shape he’d find in magazines, but to him they were one of the most beautiful pair he’d seen. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured.  

“Thanks,” blushing, Maggie bit her bottom lip as she looked down at Dean’s boxers, “Your turn.”

Swallowing back the nervousness, he hooked his thumbs in the waistband and pushed them down his legs. He’d never had a girl want to undress like this and it left him feeling vulnerable and far too open. When he looked up to urge Maggie to finish undressing, he found that she’d already done so and was kicking her panties toward the rest of their clothing.

Maggie took a few steps forward until she could smooth her hands over his chest. Even though she seemed calm about all of this, her heart was hammering so hard she could have sworn that Dean could hear it. Tonight was the night, she could feel it and it was a little scary. She glanced down at Dean’s cock which was standing hard and proud between them. She’d seen a glimpse of him in the car a couple weeks ago but she’d been too distracted to really pay attention. Now she was riveted to the sight.

Dean kissed her softly on the cheek, breaking her out of her distraction, “Come lay down with me, Mags.”  

Taking a deep breath, Maggie laid down and nervously plucked at the zipper of the sleeping bag as she watched Dean stretch out beside her.

“It’s okay,” Dean soothed as he kissed her shoulder, “I’ll be really gentle. I promise.” He took a moment to look her in the eye before kissing her slow at first, his fingers caressing her face. As the kiss deepened he felt her relax until she was wrapping her arms around him and kissing back with enthusiasm. Breaking away from her mouth, Dean kissed his way down Maggie’s neck while shifting around so that he was above her.

Following the valley between her breasts, Dean kissed and nuzzled his way further down. Just before dipping between her thighs, he glanced up her body and settled on his stomach. He ran his hands along her inner thighs and kissed the tender skin he found there.

Maggie rested on her bent elbows and watched Dean's mouth disappear between her legs. She sucked in a sharp breath at the first tentative swipe of his tongue along her outer folds. It was unlike anything she'd felt before. The slickness of it was more pleasurable than her own fingers had ever achieved. When he didn't immediately do it again, she lifted her hips in a silent invitation for more.

That was all Dean needed, he dove in and began to lick and suck at her most private lips as if it were her mouth. His tongue rolling up against her clit in a sporadic rhythm as he found himself getting lost in the clean, tangy taste of her. What he lacked in practiced skill, Dean made up for in sheer enthusiasm that was spurred on by the soft mewls and pleading cries coming from his sister.

“De... oh god… D-Dean,” Maggie gasped as her hands scrabbled across the surface of the sleeping bag in search of something to ground herself with. The sensation became more intense when he placed his lips around her clit and began to suck in short, fast movements, two of his fingers joining the dance around her entrance. Teasing their way inside until she felt them fill her up. Placing a hand on the back of his head, she thrust down into his fingers. Her orgasm was so close already and she wanted it. She craved to give it to him and feel it wash over her.

Dean thrust his fingers deep into Maggie's soaked entrance as he watched her writhing from the pleasure _he_ was giving her. It was a powerful and yet humbling experience to know that he was the one doing this to her, for her, and he was loving every minute of it.

The pleasure swelled inside Maggie until it exploded into every nerve of her body. Her back arching away from the floor, her voice rumbling out a gasping moan as her pussy clenched tight around Dean’s fingers. Her brother didn’t stop but instead lapped at the flow of slick that spread out around his fingers. When Maggie had stopped shuddering, his fingers slowly withdrew and he placed a loving kiss to the top of her mound.

“That was awesome,” Dean whispered against her skin.

Maggie giggled, “Shouldn’t I be the one to say that?”

“I can’t help it if it’s true,” Dean crawled up the length of her body, his lips shining with her release. “You ready to get to the really fun part?”

Reaching up she brushed her thumb across his lips and nodded. He kissed her quick and leaned over to pull the duffle closer. After a minute of digging around he grinned in triumph as he held up a small foil packet. Maggie snagged it out of his fingers and started to tear it open.

“Mags, what are you doing?” Dean protested as he went to take it back. “I’m supposed to do that.”

“Unlike some of the girls you’ve been with, I’m going to help,” she said as she sat up and kissed his chin. Wrapping a hand around the base of his cock, she stroked him a few times, drawing out a moan. Maggie carefully rolled the condom down his length and once it was in place she kissed him, gentle and deliberate. Her arms wound around his neck and she eased them back until she was spread out beneath him.

Dean’s hips pressed against hers and he felt the tip of his cock nudge against her entrance. Fighting the instinct to just plunge in, he held back and brushed her hair away from her face. “Are you really sure?”

Maggie wrapped her legs around his waist and rolled her hips upward, drawing the tip into her for the briefest of moments. “I’m sure, just… be careful.”

With the greatest of care, Dean rolled his hips forward, his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of her pussy gripping his cock for the first time. “Oh god,” he groaned.

She let out a soft whimper at the foreign feeling of being stretched and filled. She was relieved at the lack of pain, something she’d heard other girls talk about. Instead she felt a trembling in her thighs, another orgasm quickly building inside her.  Her fingers digging into his shoulder blades as he finally bottomed out and without warning she came, harder than she had before. Small, white lights dancing behind her eyelids as she bucked up against him.

The spasms around Dean’s cock had him thrusting deep into her, his lips seeking out hers, but only managing to loosely hover against each others. Sharing panting breaths, he sped up until he was nearly pounding into her, hips slapping against one another as she sobbed out her pleasure.

Pulling out, Dean gripped her by the hips and flipped her over, pulling her ass up in the air before plunging back into her. The new position driving his cock ever deeper and causing her to shout out his name. Leaning over her back, he kissed her shoulder as he thrust into her like a man possessed. “You feel so good,” He groaned, feeling the tingling in the pit of his stomach grow more intense with each passing moment, “Don’t wan’ to ever stop.”  

Reaching over her shoulder, Maggie tangled her fingers into Dean’s hair and moaned, “Please… ”

Dean couldn’t hold back any longer. The build up and nerves had him tumbling over the edge with a groan. His body tensing around her as he spilled into the condom. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to curl up with her and just enjoy the feeling of them holding each other but he didn’t want to take the risk of the condom slipping off. Shifting to pull out, Maggie reached back and grabbed hold of Dean’s hand. “Where you going?”

“Gotta pull out and get rid of the condom before I knock up my sister.” Dean said nonchalantly as he withdrew and worked on disposing of the condom.

Maggie sat up and turned a glare at Dean’s back. “Excuse me?!”

Dean glanced back at her and frowned, “Do you want to explain to Dad why you’re walking around pregnant because I sure as hell don’t.”

She looked down at her bare thighs and slowly drew the sleeping bag up to cover her nudity, feeling a pang of shame at the thought of John ever finding out. She knew they were toying with disaster but they’d never spoken so blatantly about it.

As soon as she started to cover up, Dean knew he’d messed up. Moving to her side, he sat down and took her into his arms. “I’m sorry, Mags. I shouldn’t have said it like that.”

“It’s the truth,” Maggie sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. “It’s… it’s incest, Dean. It’s illegal and at the very least Dad would send one of us away if he knew.”

“I wouldn’t let him send anyone anywhere,” Dean said as he kissed her temple.

Maggie burrowed her face into the crook of his neck and squeezed her eyes shut. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep. If Dad wanted to split us up, he could.”

“Hey, don’t think about that because Dad’s never gonna know. This right here is just for you and me.” Dean tilted her head so that they could look at each other. “It’ll always be just you and me, forever and ever. The two of us taking care of Sammy and kickin’ anyone’s ass who says different. Right?”

Maggie nodded and smiled weakly. What was supposed to be a special night for them was clouded over by the cold, harsh reality of the world. Two siblings weren’t supposed to love each other like this and unbeknownst to either of them, Dean’s promises would be put to the test in more ways than one.

* * *

Bobby stepped off the final rung of the treehouse’s ladder and turned his back on what he’d seen; the twins entwined in sleep with one another, nude as the day they were born. He’d heard about such things happening with twins but he never thought he’d see the day where he’d be witnessing such a thing, especially with Dean and Maggie. He’d have to talk to John when he came back. Bobby shook his head as he discarded that idea right away. There was no telling  what that man would do if he found out something like this. Of course, if John didn’t leave these kids alone as much as he did maybe they wouldn’t have found the need to cling to each other. Over the years, Bobby had held his peace about the subject of John choosing hunting over his family and maybe it was time for him to stop playing the peacemaker. Maybe it was time for Bobby to do what he should have years ago and try to get these kids away from John Winchester.


	5. Chapter 5

The final bell had rung and a flood of kids hurried out of the school and into the yard, excited for the day to be over. Maggie had to stop at her locker to make sure it was emptied, because the following morning they’d be leaving for the next hunt. She’d be glad to put this backward rural town behind her. Although the teachers were good and the classes were small, it meant that the town combined all grades onto the same campus. Making it utter chaos after classes, even though the upperclassmen were separated from the elementary grades. Dean had dropped out of school since they moved last, leaving her and Sam to deal with the daily grind of classes, socializing, and homework.

Shouldering her backpack, Maggie made her way to the Impala. John and Dean had taken another vehicle instead, which suited Maggie just fine. It meant that she and Sam weren't stuck in the motel room for weeks.

Sliding behind the wheel, she drove around to the pick-up lane so that Sam wouldn't have to wait as long after saying his goodbyes to any friends he'd made at this school. Pulling up to the curb, she looked around for her little brother. He was still a bit small for a thirteen year old which made him difficult to pick out of a crowd. She couldn’t wait for him to have a growth spurt soon.

She was about to sit back and listen to her music with the late spring air blowing through the window when she heard the sound of raucous laughter. It seemed to be echoing from around the corner where teachers rarely kept watch. Figuring it was just the usual cluster of jerkoffs goofing around after class, she ignored it until she saw a pair of shoes and what looked like Sam's jacket flying out and landing on the grass.

Narrowing her eyes, Maggie got out of the car and charged over to the source of the noise. If what she thought was happening was actually happening, there would be hell to pay and she’d be the one collecting. It wasn't Sammy’s fault that he was the odd man out at these schools or that he was dressed in ratty Salvation Army clothes. He and Dean had always told her to stay out of it. _They could take care of themselves and didn't need their sister going “mama bear” on everybody_. Well, Dean wasn't here and she was going to do what needed to be done.

Rounding the corner, she saw a group of boys her age in a semi circle looking down in front of them and laughing. Skirting around them, Maggie caught a glimpse of Sam being held down by a much larger boy with more acne than he knew what to do with, sitting on top of the youngest Winchester and slapping him around. Seeing red, Maggie ran as fast she could and tackled the boy on top of Sam to the ground, landing several punches to his face as he tried to figure out what was happening.

It would almost be comical at how he flailed around if he wasn't twice her size. She sucker punched him under the solar plexus causing his diaphragm to go into a vicious spasm and leaving him gasping for air. Pushing away from him, Maggie stood up, knuckles raw and red, facing the rest of his gang of Neanderthals. Most of them were too stunned by what they’d witnessed to do anything but gape at her, except for one who had long, greasy black hair. He looked like he was seriously considering avenging the pounding his friend had just received until Maggie turned on them, with a look that conveyed that she wouldn’t hesitate to bury them. “Don’t you fucking touch _MY_ baby brother,” Maggie snarled as she held a blind hand down to Sam.

Sam reluctantly took her hand and pulled himself onto his feet while wiping the blood away from his nose, “Let’s go, Maggie,” he grumbled as she hugged him to her side. Nodding, she steered him toward the car, casting a final warning glance at the boys as her brother gathered his things. Sam’s attacker got up off the ground and started sputtering threats and obscenities at them, the worst of them causing Sam to turn around and take a step toward the older boys with the intention of defending his sister.

Maggie’s hand clamped down on his shoulder and shoved him toward the car, “Leave it, Sammy. Just get in the car,” she growled.

Sullenly, Sam did as he was told and climbed into the passenger seat of the Impala, glaring at the dashboard as Maggie got behind the wheel. As the car rumbled to life once more and they drove away from the school, he felt worse about what had happened. He should have been able to get away or defend himself against guys like that. He’d been training all summer and had even managed to pin Dean a few times when they sparred. Then it occurred to him that if their Dad or Dean ever knew about this, they’d never let him live it down. “Don’t tell Dad or Dean,” he said quietly as he picked at the seam of his jeans.

“That’s going to be a little rough to explain when they see your face tonight,” Maggie explained, but with a sigh, continued, “I guess it could be worse though. They’d have really turned you into dog meat if I hadn’t shown up.”

“That’s the point, Maggie!” Sam shouted, his face reddening with shame, “I shouldn’t have to have my sister fight for me. It’s embarrassing.”

Maggie jerked her eyes off the road for a moment to stare at Sam. Seeing the near misery he was in, she gently pulled the car off onto the shoulder of the road and threw it into park. Reaching into the glove compartment, she grabbed a couple of napkins and turned Sam’s face toward her so she could clean up the blood under his nose, “I sure as hell hope that’s not a dig at me being a girl.”

“No. It’s just that…,” he lifted his eyes to look into hers and sighed, “As far as Dad and Dean are concerned this never happened. Ever.”

Regarding him for a moment, Maggie understood where he was coming from. There had been plenty of times over the years where she’d felt her own inadequacies in hunting skills. She knew she was good with research but for some reason she always had issues with the stamina training John set for them. It left her short of breath and feeling like she would never breathe properly again. Sometimes she wondered if Dean set slower paces to cover that fact.  “Don’t worry, Sammy. I won’t tell,“ she said as she licked the napkin to moisten it before rubbing at a dried spot of blood on the tip of his nose.

Sam crinkled his face in disgust and tried to pull away, “Gross! Your spit smells like Doritos.”

“Be glad I didn’t eat the salisbury steak at lunch,” She said with a grin as she finished up and crumpled up the napkin, “So do you want to tell me why you had Huey, Dewey and Louie trying to rearrange your face?”

“No reason.” Sam grumbled, looking down at his shoes, “They ganged up on me is all. I got a couple hits in before they knocked me down and Trent jumped on me.”

Maggie cocked an eyebrow and draped her arm over the back of the seat, “And they just did this because they were dicks and wanted to beat you up, huh?”

Sam sighed heavily and kicked at his bookbag, “I might have called them out on something, in front of everybody earlier today.”

“About what?” Maggie asked.

“A girl,” Sam muttered, “They were picking on her and I-”

Maggie couldn’t help but smile as she listened, “Defended her? That was really sweet of you, Sammy. I hope she appreciated it.”

“She got mad at me and said I embarrassed her,” Sam said, looking even more dejected than before, if that was even possible.  

“Screw her then. She wouldn't know a good guy if he was standing right in front of her,” Maggie said, reaching over and ruffling his hair affectionately.

Sam swatted her hand away from him but couldn’t help but smile. She had a way of putting things that didn’t make him feel like a complete ass, even if he had made one of himself. “Sooo…,” he started, wanting to divert the attention away from what he’d done, “you really creamed that guy.”

“Well yeah. I guess I did,” she shrugged as she slid back to her side of the bench seat.

“Holy Bitchfit, Batman,” Sam snorted under his breath.

“I’m more like Catwoman.” Maggie flashed him a quick smirk as she put the car into gear, “I got pizza money and I have a powerful urge for a pie with everything and some old westerns. You game?”

Sam settled into his seat and nodded, “Only if I get to make fun of the cowboys.”

“Dude, I’d be disappointed if you didn’t,” she said as drove off for their motel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked what you've just read, leave a note in the comment section below. Feedback is the warm blankets writers snuggle down with at night.
> 
> You can also find me on tumblr at madamelibrarian.tumblr.com


	6. Chapter 6

The twins’ twenty first birthday was marked by a hunt, they're first solo excursion together. John had originally planned to take care of the hunt himself, but shortly after their arrival in Florida, he received a call from a nearby hunter asking for help. After a twenty minute reiteration about safety while he and Sam packed, John left Dean and Maggie to handle things.

Three days later the twins were on their way back from a particularly nasty trek through the edge of the Everglades. The Wendigo they'd been tracking had been old and vicious, leaving Dean with a deep gash running across the top of his pectoral. As soon as they had gotten back to the Impala, Maggie rinsed out the wound with a jug of holy water from the trunk and applied a clean patch of gauze.

“Leave it to you to get hurt and then fall into a puddle of muck,” she teased with a hint of exasperation, “I won’t be able to stitch this until you shower.”

Dean hissed in pain as she pressed on the wound. “Quit your bitchin’. You didn’t have the angry business end of that thing staring at you.”

“No, just its ass,” Maggie shoved her hand into Dean’s jacket pocket and pulled out the keys to the car while he spluttered in protest, “Now who’s bitchin’? Just sit back and enjoy the ride,” She patted him on the cheek and circled around to the driver seat. A short drive later, they return to the motel and start to clean up. Dean let Maggie go first even though she protested the entire time about infection setting in if her brother didn’t get the cut cleaned out. He finally stripped down and climbed into the shower with a swat to her ass, eliciting a sharp cry from her.

“There, I’m in the shower. Happy?” Dean said as he pulled her against him and kissed the curve of her shoulder.

Maggie squealed, tilting the shower head so it sprayed Dean in the face, “I just got all clean, Dork.”

“Loser,” he retorted playfully, angling his head back to rinse out his hair. “I’ll wash your back for you.”

“You better. I don’t want to smell like swamp all night.” Maggie carefully peeled away the gauze and looked at the wound underneath, impressed that it didn’t look as deep as it had when she first bandaged it, _blood always did make things look worse_ , “I don’t think you’ll need stitches but that’s going scar.”

Dean looked at her with one eye open as he lathered up his hair, “Chicks dig scars.”

“Chicks, huh? Am I being lumped up in there with those painted up bar bunnies you attract?” Maggie smiled up at him. It was an old game that they played. She’d tease him about his proclivity for picking up women at bars and he’d tease her about not trying for other guys at all.

“You should try it sometime, Mags. You might pick up a thing or two. Maybe we could even find you a lady friend so I could watch.” His eyebrows waggle as he started to soap up his chest.

Maggie snorted and stepped out of the shower. “I’m sure I could pick up quite a few things. Chlamydia, Gonorrhea, Crabs, or everyone’s favorite, Herpes.”

“There are such things as precautions.”

“Only as effective as the user, De.” Maggie wrapped a warm towel around her body and started to dry her hair, “Besides, guys at bars are dicks. Present company excluded. All hands and no brains.”

“Thanks for that,” Dean finished up washing and turned off the water just as it was turning cold.

“Trust me, Honey. I’ll make you see god,” Maggie said in a much deeper voice, clearly imitating someone. “You feel so good. Don’t worry, I’ll get mine then you get yours.”

Dean’s eyebrows pulled together in confusion as he toweled off, “I’ve never said that to you. Ever.”

Maggie glanced at her brother and blushed when she realized she’d been indiscreet about a night years before. A greatly unsatisfying night that she’d put behind her for the most part. It’d only served to solidify her belief that she had no interest in anonymous, carefree sex. “No. You haven’t. Forget I said anything,” She skirted around Dean to leave the bathroom but he followed close at her heels.

“Not when you put it like that.” Dean lightly took hold of her wrist to stop her, “Where in hell did you hear the shittiest porn dialog on the planet?”

“No where! Okay?” She jerked out of his hold and turned her back to him, pulling clothes out of her duffle to get dressed, “There was this guy a few years ago. He...I thought I’d give it a try. Picking someone up and what not.”

Dean would be ashamed to admit it, but the thought of her hooking up with some random guy made his blood run cold. To think that some bar hopping college douche came on to Maggie and she fell for it, pissed him off. “He didn’t hurt you, did he? Because I swear if he did, I’ll find him and-”

Maggie turned around and cut him off with a kiss. One to his lips and the second to his chin, knowing that if she let him get going on that train of thought he’d get all twisted up inside and end up rushing all over the country just to find one guy. “Hush, I didn’t get hurt. He was just bad at it. Really bad.”

Holding the side of her face, he pressed his forehead to hers and let out a long sigh, “Good. Not that he was bad. That you weren’t hurt.”

She kissed him once more before grabbing him and hooking her leg around his, sweeping it out from under him. With a quick twist of her body, she turned them so he fell onto the bed. “Who’s hurt?” She laughed as she looked down at him.

“Smartass,” Dean grumbled as he pulled her down on top of him then rolled over on top of her, “You’re a big, strong girl. Even if you are a loser.”

“Love you too, ya dork,” Maggie wrapped her arms around his shoulders and smiled. “When is Dad due back?”

“Not until tomorrow, so we got time to spare,” Dean leaned down and kissed her shoulder.

Maggie hummed as she slid her leg up and over his hip, “Enough to remind me how bad pickups are?”

“I think I can manage a little lesson or two,” Dean flashed her a smile before kissing her, slow and steady in well practiced movements. His hand gently running up her side to cup the bottom of her breast.

Sighing, she arched up into his hand as her fingers tangled up in his hair.

Without warning, the sound of a key being pushed into the door’s lock, a sound that the twins missed entirely as they moved together. John entered the room and stopped cold in his tracks, knowing what he was seeing but unwilling to believe it. “‘THE FUCK ARE YOU TWO DOING?!”

His bellow had Dean and Maggie scrambling off the bed, searching for their clothing. “Dad! I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow?” Dean asked as he pulled a pair of his jeans on and hastily zipped them.

John stalked over to his son, seeing red and feeling an unrestrained anger toward the boy. All he could think was that Dean was using his sister to satisfy his over-inflated libido and it needed to stop **now** , even if he had to beat the point into him. Grabbing Dean by the upper arm, he yanked him forward and open hand slapped him over the back of his head repeatedly, while shouting out his frustration. “You stupid, fucking boy! What are you thinking? Maggie is your Goddamned sister!”

So surprised by John’s reaction all Dean could do was try and twist out of his Father’s iron grip and try to protect his head from the blows, “Dad! Stop! I can explain.”

“EXPLAIN WHAT?! How you’re fucking your own sister?! What if Sam had come in that door instead of parking the car?!” John yelled and landed another blow that caught across Dean’s cheek.

Raising his hand for another, Maggie rushed forward and gripped John’s wrist with both hands and pulled back toward her, “Daddy! STOP!”

John glared at her and pushed her way causing her to stumble back until she fell to the bed. Letting go of Dean, he towered over her and pushed an accusing finger into her face, “It wouldn’t be so bad if you were whoring around with strangers but with your _own brother_...” John trailed off, the disgust thick in his voice.

“I’m not whoring around!” Maggie protested as tears welled up in her eyes. Her greatest fears were coming true and she didn’t know how to stop it. “I love him and he loves me.”

The eldest Winchester narrowed his eyes and stood up straight, the muscles in his jaw twitching from the clench of his teeth. “And Sam? Do you _love_ Sam like this too?” he growled as he looked between his eldest children.

Dean’s eyes widened in disgust at the suggestion, “No way! He’s..he’s..”

“He’s our baby brother,” Maggie finished for her twin, “We never involved him or even thought of him like that.”

Closing his eyes as the fight started to drain out of him, John took several deep breaths as the thanked whatever god was listening that the twins’ perversion hadn’t tainted Sammy. He opened his eyes to see Dean edging closer to Maggie, and he knew that they couldn’t stop. Whatever they had been doing for however long… he felt sick just thinking about it. They would never stop, the twins had always been close and it pained him to think of separating them, but one of them had to go.

Then it dawned on him, the last time he had picked the kids up from Bobby’s, when they had had the falling out. Bobby had gone off on John about so many things, but the one thing he had kept reiterating was that John wasn’t a present father. He had had the balls to tell John that Dean and Maggie were more like parents to Sam than John had ever been. They hadn’t talked to Bobby since, and so many pieces were falling into place. The glances, the awkward moments, and all the times either of them had answered the phone slightly out of breath when he was checking in while on a hunt.

Measuring the two of them up, he knew one had to leave, they had to be separated. The idea of sending his oldest son away was more painful than the idea that that same son had been fucking his sister. Maggie was strong, resourceful, and… John felt all the rage and pain that was divided between the twins focus solely on Maggie. She had to leave.

Dean was better at hunting and John needed him on the road. Swallowing down the sour taste of bile in his throat, John turned to his daughter and said something he never thought he’d have to say to his own flesh and blood, “It’d be best if you left.”

Grasping Maggie’s hand and pulled her up from the bed and clutched her to him, “No, sir. She’s not going anywhere,” Dean stated firmly, one side of his face already bruising from where John had struck him.

“De, don’t,” Maggie whispered, her hand curling against Dean’s chest as she watched in horror as John slowly rested his hand on his gun in it’s holster on his waist.

“Magdalene, pack your fuckin’ shit and get out,” John growled.

Dean’s body went rigid as he watched his father unclip the holster. He watched as John calmly threatened Maggie wordlessly pulling the gun out and pointing it at the floor. Dean attempted to put himself between the gun and Maggie, but a gentle press of her hand stopped him. Maggie turned to her brother with tears streaming down her face, “It’s okay, I’ll go.”

“No, you won’t. I’ll go with you,” Dean blurted as he darted a glance at John, keeping an eye on the gun to make sure it stayed pointed at the ground.

She shook her head and wiped her face clean, “Think of Sammy. He needs his big brother now. You just make sure he graduates. Okay?” Maggie could see Dean fighting himself to keep his emotions under control. So she stepped away from him, taking his silence as agreement and quickly moved around the room to shove her things into a bag and put on her shoes.

Dean watched her move around the room for a moment before turning to John, “I’ll never forgive you.”

“You’ll thank me for this,” John moved to the door and yanked it open, “Maybe not today, but someday you will.”

Maggie finished packing and shouldered her bag, stepping up to Dean and placing a soft kiss to his chin, “I love you, dork.” she whispered.

John spoke her name in a low warning tone as Dean wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, “I’m sorry,” Dean whispered to her, “I don’t want you to go.”

“I know,” Maggie said as she pulled back with a sniffle. She turned her back to him and gave her father a parting glare before stepping out into night. As she made her way to the street, she heard Sam call out to her and the sound of his feet as he ran to catch up.

“Hey, where are you going? We just got back and I was thinking we could order some pizza and watch crappy TV.”

Maggie stopped and her shoulders visibly drooped when Sam got closer, “Sammy, I have to go and I won’t be back.”

“What?!” he exclaimed as he circled around to face her, “Why?”

She looked up and tried to give him a smile but it came out watery and more like a grimace, “Time for me to move on is all. But no matter what anyone tells you I want you to remember something. You’re my little Sammy and you mean the world to me.”

“Moving on? But...you were..I don’t get it,” Sam looked up toward the motel room and frowned when he saw John standing in the doorway with a gun in hand, “Is he making you leave?”

Maggie looked over her shoulder and pressed her lips together to keep from speaking ill about John, even though she wanted to. Sam and John were already at odds on a regular basis and she didn’t need to be causing a deeper rift. “It’s complicated.”

“Screw complicated. I’ll talk to him and make him let you stay with us.” Sam started toward John but Maggie stopped him with a hand to his arm.

“Sam, it’s not worth it. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

Sam looked down at her and without warning, pulled her into a bear hug. The kind only Sam could give, with his long arms fulling encompassing her and holding her like he didn’t want to let her go. The only mother-figure he’d ever known, he whispered “Take me with you.”

“I can’t. I wish I could but I can’t,” she said, her voice tight with tears. Feeling like the longer she stayed the harder it will be to leave, she pulled from Sam’s grip and slowly backed away, “You finish school and you get out like you wanted, Sam. Don’t…” Maggie trailed off as she saw her little brother start to cry. “Be good and stay safe, baby bro.” Turning on her heel, she hurried off down the road toward town.

* * *

After a shouting match with his sons, John went out to the Impala and sat on the hood looking up at the stars. This evening had not turned out like he’d expected it to. He’d planned on taking them all out to eat and spending a bit of time together as a family. Now he was alone wondering where it all went wrong. He’d known the kids were close and that the twins were closest of all but never in his wildest imagination would have thought that Dean and Maggie’s relationship turned _carnal_. He could admit that he wasn’t a perfect father. Living on the road wasn’t easy, neither was hunting but he tried to give his kids what he could. Maybe he left them on their own too much. Bobby had tried to tell him that once but his own pride got in the way and earned him a round of buckshot from the grizzled hunter. Now what was left of his family was fractured apart. The boys were angry and had turned sullen toward him, each for their own reasons. Thankfully, Dean hadn’t told Sam why Maggie left and John wasn’t going to as long as he lived. If word got around the hunting community about what had been happening, well John didn’t want to think of the repercussions.

“I’m sorry, Mary,” he murmured to the night, hoping that wherever his late wife was that she hadn’t witnessed the life they led, but could hear him, “I wish I knew what happened or how to fix this. You always had a better way with the kids. Maybe if that demon hadn’t taken you... everything would have been different. I sent your little girl out into the world alone but I didn’t have a choice. Not a good one. I have to keep Sam safe and I was so focused on that and getting the bastard who took you, the twins fell by the wayside. I think I’ll have a lot to answer for in the end. I hope I never see you again just for that reason.”

John looked down at the wedding band encircling his finger and stroked a thumb over it. “Maybe I should have been the one to die in that fire and not you.”


	7. Chapter 7

 

Hot tears stung Maggie’s eyes as she walked the half mile into town. With no idea of where to go, she briefly entertained the idea of calling Bobby. _He’d take me in, right?_ Not knowing if John was on the phone to the older hunter to warn him to turn her away too, she pushed the thought from her mind. By the time she reached the the corner in front of the bus station, her thought were buzzing in circles. She couldn’t the get the image of Dean’s heartbroken face and Sam calling for her out of her mind. She couldn’t stay; John made it an impossibility. She had to get away. Start over and try to find a life away from John Winchester and his drill sergeant ways.

Stopping at one of the benches that lined the sidewalk, Maggie dropped into it and let her face fall into her hands as she sobbed out her anger, frustration and sadness. She’d never been separated from her brothers before and she didn’t know how to exist without them. She especially didn’t know how to sleep alone. Without the comforting warmth of Dean at her back and stolen kisses in the dark.

She pulled her feet up onto the bench and hugged her knees, trying her best to ignore the concerned looks thrown at her from fellow pedestrians. Crying for what seemed like ages, her tears finally slowed just as a man sat next to her. Giving a cursory glance at him, Maggie pressed herself to the far end of the bench as she carefully slid her hand to her waist where she kept the butterfly knife Dean had given her for her sixteenth birthday.

“You know, Sugar, crying on a bench on a busy street is more dangerous than you think. A young girl could get hurt like that,” the man said as he pulled a stick of bubble gum out of a pack and rolled it into his mouth. “Not smart at all, Magdalene. Always watch out for the creepers with charming smiles. I thought I told you that.”

There was something familiar about the guy next to her, with his blonde hair and the impish gleam in his eye, but she couldn’t place it. “Who are you and how do you know my name?” she asked and tightened her grip on the knife after carefully unfolding it.

“I can see why you’d ask that. Face lift and all,” he said with a grin and circled his face with his hand. “Like it? Or did you prefer the brunette with the freckle under the left eye? It’s been a while but what can I say...I had princesses to save and unicorns to wrangle,” he continued.

His words brought up images of sweltering summers where the locusts hummed in the tall grasses and she was left to her own devices while Sam napped and Dean stood watch like a terracotta soldier. Images of a tall, dark haired boy, several years older than her with a freckle under his eye who’d tell her stories of gods, heroes and the angels in heaven. Someone who always visited her dreams. “You’re real? Who are you??”

Leaning forward, he whispered low, the smell of sweet bubble gum wafting off of him. “You know. I told you once upon a time… long ago.”

Her mind raced as she stared into the whiskey brown eyes in front of her. “Lou?” she whispered back in disbelief, “But you can’t be real. You were just a dream… someone to keep me company.”

“Someone to keep you safe,” he turned in his seat so his knee was bent and tucked up between them. “I’ve been keeping you safe for a long time, Maggie. You’re an important young woman and it’s my job to keep you from harm.”

“But why? I don’t understand,” Maggie said with a sniffle.

The man stood and held out his hand for her, open palmed and unthreatening. “You will, if you’ll give me the chance to explain.”

Against her better judgement, Maggie placed her hand in his and allowed him to lead her to his car. A sporty little convertible, the color of candied apples.

* * *

“So let me get this straight. You’re an angel?” Maggie asked incredulously as her hands gripped the paper cup of hot chocolate, her voice low so that the patrons of the coffee shop couldn’t overhear them, “And you’re Gabr-”

The blonde haired man sitting across from her waved his finger to cut her off, “Shhhh!!! Don’t say it. It’s like screaming fire in a theater to the Host. Just… my name is Lou. Got it?”

Maggie nodded and examined the contents of her cup as she took in the information and processed it, “And you’ve been watching me, pretending to be my friend all this time because I’m your vessel?” She looked up and frowned, “So I guess you’re plan is to get _me_ to agree to let _you_ possess _me_ so _you_ have a nice new body to roam around in.”

“Hells no,” Gabriel snorted as he gestured to himself. “This is a sweet little home I’ve got here and don’t want the irritation of being female, _again_ _._ Been there, done that. Have the kids to prove it.” Gabriel leaned across the table, lowering his voice, ”Believe it or not, Cupcake, I’m just interested in protecting you and making sure _you_ stay out of trouble. Or at least not getting into anymore.”

“But why?” Maggie scratched her nails over the surface of her cup as doubt washed through her mind, “You know what I am. What I’ve done. What’s really in it for you?”

Reaching out, Gabriel took her figiting hand in his, “Maggie, I’ve watched over you since before you were born. I came to you in the shape of that boy you knew as Lou because I didn’t want to just be an amorphous presence holding on to the bond we share. I wanted to get to know you as a real person because you’re not my pet or some means to an end. You’re _you_.”

Maggie chuckled mirthlessly, making no move to remove her hand from his, “That has got to be the longest and lamest pickup line I’ve heard yet.”

“It would be if it were a come on and not the truth,” Gabriel leaned in with a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “Unless you want to take a ride on the pagan side.”

She tilted her head with an unamused scowl that could wilt flowers, “Really, asshole? Are you seriously saying that shit to me right now?”

Gabriel held his hands up in surrender with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Or we could cuddle. Just saying.”

“Listen, Ga...” she caught the warning wag of his finger and quickly corrected herself, “Lou. I’ve just been through a really rough day and the thought of cuddling anyone right now is the furthest thing from my mind.”

“Unless it’s with a certain hunter,” Gabriel tapped the side of his nose knowingly.

Maggie’s eyes widened before averting her gaze.

“Hey, don’t be like that, I was just teasing. Years ago I told you that it didn’t matter who you loved and I meant it,” Gabriel leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, “But tell you what, I’ve got a place if you need a place to go. No strings. No pressure.”

* * *

Weeks later a tinny voice sounded out over Bobby’s message machine.

“Bobby? It’s me, Maggie. I’m safe but I don’t think I’ll be calling again,” the faint sound of a sniffle is heard before she continues. “It was  the best… for everyone. If you see Sam and Dean tell them… tell them I miss them and I love them. Keep those boys safe. Don’t let them get into too much trouble. Bye Bobby. You were a great uncle and I wish you’d been our dad instead.”

The line went dead and Bobby sat his desk staring at the machine with a glass of whiskey in his hand, reaching out to hit play one more time.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six months after she left her family behind and took up cohabitating with an archangel, Maggie was feeling homesick.

Six months after she left her family behind and took up cohabitating with an archangel, Maggie was feeling homesick. She hated not knowing what was going on. Struggling with the decision on whether or not to call her brothers, for no other reason than to simply hear their voices, Maggie remained undecided. She even went so far as to buy a burner phone and started to dial Dean’s number, then remembered that John could be with him, so she chucked the phone across the room before she had even finished dialing his number. The scattered pieces of plastic flinging across the floor was almost satisfying but left her feeling lonelier than ever.

Every week she took Gabriel’s car to run errands and get out of the house. At first Gabriel had scoffed at the notion, but Maggie explained that she had to do more than sit around all day. Otherwise she’d start climbing the walls. Not everything could or should be conjured up on a whim.

Sitting down in a coffee shop, Maggie pulled a new burner phone from her pocket and worried her bottom lip. Taking a deep breath, she dialed the only number, other than her brothers’ or father’s that she remembered; Bobby Singer.

Bobby had just walked in from walking his new puppy, Rumsfeld, when he heard his home phone ringing. Of all the lines to be going off, that was the one he didn’t expect. Most, if not all hunters, called the alternate lines. Picking up the handset, he checked the display but it said the number was unknown. Bobby rolled his eyes in irritation because this had to be another telemarketer, and he intended to give them a piece of his mind. “I ain’t interested,” he growled as soon as the receiver touched his ear.

“B-bobby,” came a timid but familiar sounding voice, “Did I call at a bad time?”

“Maggie?!” Bobby asked in surprise as he practically collapsed into his desk chair, “Are you okay? Where are ya?”

She couldn’t help but smile as she listened to Bobby ramble, she missed him, “I’m fine and _safe_. But I can’t tell you where I am.”

Letting out a brief sigh of relief, Bobby removed his hat to scratch the top of his head, “Dammit girl, you gotta give me something. Those brothers’ of yours call over here once a month looking for you.”

Maggie slowly closed her eyes and swallowed around the lump that suddenly formed in her throat. Part of her wanted to tell him where she was if it meant she could see him, Sam, and Dean again, but she couldn’t risk it. Not with how things had ended. “I’ll think about it,” Maggie said quietly.

“Look, I don’t know what happened between you and your Daddy, but from what Sam told me it was something big,” Bobby started, leaning down to pick up the pup at his feet begging for attention. He had a good idea about what the fight was about but this wasn’t exactly the time to bring that up. If he was right, there was a good chance that Maggie might make a real run for it and never contact them again. Placing Rumsfeld on his lap, Bobby continued, “I don’t care what he thinks or what it was. You’re always welcome here.”

“Be careful, Bobby. What if I murdered someone?” Maggie asked as she picked at the label on the outside of her coffee. Her heart pounded almost painfully in her chest at the thought of living with the older hunter. She never wanted him to find out the circumstances of her leaving. That and she’d started to grow fond of living with Gabriel. He had a way of making her smile that lightened her heart.

Bobby snorted while leaning back in his chair. He could no more believe she’d kill anything human than he could believe John’s original cock and bull story of her running off to marry some cowboy from Texas. Not that the story stuck around for long with Sam calling him a week after she disappeared. “Didja?” Bobby asked, already knowing the answer.

“No,” Maggie said and then changed the subject, “So, how are things?”

“Well, Sammy got accepted into a few colleges,” Bobby started and went on to tell her what he knew about the Winchesters, then what he’d been doing with his time. When he thought about it later on, he wondered why he didn’t tell her that he’d heard that Dean had turned to drinking more and seemed a miserable little bastard without her around.  Or that John had forbidden either boys from saying her name.

* * *

 

“Happy Birthday, Uncle Bobby,” Maggie said brightly when she called the next time, “You’re thirty today, right?”

Bobby laughed into the receiver and marked his place in the book he’d been reading. Rumsfeld lifted his head in vague interest at what would cause Bobby to disturb his well deserved nap, “Don’t you use that silver tongue on me, young lady. You know for a fact I ain’t that young.”

“Fine. How old are you?”

“Old enough to not give a damn,” Bobby answered sagely, “So tell me what’ve you been up to?”

Maggie held her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment as she contemplated how much to tell him. Deciding on the safer course, she answered, “I have a job. Nothing glamorous but it gives me pocket money.”

Bobby nodded to himself, “Do I bother asking or are we still keeping up the aire of mystery?”

“What can I say? I’m mysterious,” Maggie stood up when the kitchen timer went off, “We’ve talked about this. I’m not going to tell you where I am just so you can turn around and tell Sam or Dean. It’s better this way and you know it.”

“Says you.”

“I do. It’s complicated and if I’m going to catch flack for not telling everytime I call… “ Maggie let the rest of the sentence hang in the air as she opened the oven to check on the cake she was making.

“Alright. I’ll let it go. Just… is the job safe? You know...” Bobby trailed off, as he internally cringed at the thought of the less savory jobs a young girl like Maggie could find her way into.

Maggie outright laughed at the implication, “No, I’m not _stripping_ . Totally respectable.”  She closed the oven with the cake pan in hand and thought, _if getting an allowance from an angel is respectable_ _,_ “You have big plans for your birthday?”

“Not really,” Bobby said with a small shrug, “An old hunting buddy sent me a bottle of Johnnie Walker, so me and a roll of Tollhouse Cookies are going to get reacquainted later on.”

“Such sinful living you get up to, Bobby,” Maggie teased.

“I’ll be sure to pray for my soul this Sunday,” Bobby smirked against the receiver. Even though there was normally a time and place for family updates, Bobby couldn’t stop himself as he blurted, “Sam got a full ride to Stanford.”

“Seriously?!” Maggie exclaimed while a smile spread across her face, “That’s so great.”

“Wish everyone took it like you. John didn’t sound to pleased about it last time he was here.”

She couldn’t help the irritated huff she let out at the mention of John Winchester, “ _Dad_ isn’t pleased by much.”

Bobby hummed before speaking again, “Too bad you weren’t there for his graduation.”

The sudden pang of regret of missing something so important to Sam pierced through Maggie and made her want to be as far from this conversation as possible, “Yeah, too bad. Listen, I gotta go get ready for work. You have a happy birthday and I’ll call again soon.” She hung up before she heard the short protest from the other end of the line.

* * *

The next time Bobby received a call from an ‘unknown’ number was the morning after he, Sam, and Dean had burned John’s remains. Glancing up at the clock, he realized that this was about the time that Maggie would normally call. She’d gotten pretty regular over the last several months. The calls came in every Thursday at 3pm. “Balls!” he cursed to himself. He’d forgotten about this with everything that had happened. Slipping out onto the front porch to answer the call, he was thankful that Sam was too busy reading to notice. “Hey darlin’, what’s going on? How are ya?” the old hunter answered with a little too much pep that made him shake his head at his own false bravado.

“Nothing too exciting,” Maggie answered warily when she heard how upbeat Bobby was, “You sound… uh… perky. I didn’t interrupt something did I?”

“Nope. You didn’t interrupt anything,” Bobby cleared his throat and looked off in the distance where he heard Dean banging away on the frame of the Impala. He should tell her what’s happened. How Sam was out of school and John was dead now, but he found he couldn’t do it. Bobby had planned on doing it, knew he had to be the one to tell her, but not when it was all so fresh in his mind. He knew that if he told her now, with everything that was going on, she wouldn’t hesitate to come running. Bobby wouldn’t be the reason she got dragged back into _this_ life again, “Just the usual.”

“Uh huh. That’s why you sound like the head cheerleader at a losing game,” Maggie said as she settled in the lawn chair.

“Everything is fine, dammit,” Bobby snapped and then sighed at his own overreaction, “I’m sorry, Darlin’. I shouldn’t have barked at ya. Just been crazy around here this week.”

Not quite believing him but knowing that pushing Bobby Singer wouldn’t be productive, “I’ve told you that you need a vacation.”

“Maybe in a few weeks,” Bobby sat on the bench that he kept on the porch and let out a soft groan at the creaking in his joints. They spent the next several minutes talking but not really saying anything. Each holding back their own secrets until the conversation started to feel drawn out and forced.

Finally Maggie cleared her throat, “So I won’t be calling next week. I’ll be going on a trip where there won’t be any phones or signal, but I’ll call you when I get back,” she glanced at Gabriel, who’d joined her on the porch and held a finger to her lips, warning him to be quiet.

“Alright. You take care of yourself, Maggie. And call me if you ever need anything,” Bobby said just as Dean came up to the steps. Their eyes met and held as Bobby realized that Dean had overheard him. Cursing himself for the second time that morning, Bobby ended the call and laid the phone in his lap.

Dean narrowed his eyes as he braced his foot on the bottom step, “Did you just say Maggie?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 8 Note: The gif was made by http://soluscheese.tumblr.com/


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sam’s world had been turned on its head with the death of John. Finding out that Bobby had been talking to their wayward sister for nearly three years would just be icing on an already terrible cake.

Bobby’s head jerked up at the sound of Dean’s voice. It was a miracle that Bobby hadn’t had a heart attack from the numerous times Dean or Sam had managed to sneak up on him. Either he was slipping or the two Winchester boys had the lightest steps of anyone he’d ever met. Regardless of how it happened, Bobby found Dean staring him down, the truth remained that he was there and expecting an answer. 

With his jaw set, Bobby shook his head and stood from his chair as he said,  “If I did, it wouldn’t be any of your damn business.” It wasn’t like Bobby didn’t want to see their little family back together again; but what you want and what is right isn’t always the same thing. 

“It is,” Dean accused, “you were talking to _our_ sister. What the fuck?!” 

Bobby didn’t bother to answer, instead he turned and walked back into the house. Dean was hot on his heels. He could understand why Dean was testy about Maggie calling. Their world had been turned on its head with the death of John. Finding out that Bobby had been talking to their wayward sister for nearly three years would just be icing on an already terrible cake.  

Brought out of his thoughts by the sound of his kitchen door being slammed shut hard enough that it rattled in the frame, Bobby turned and stopped dead in his tracks. The look on Dean’s face was terrifying as he asked in a grave voice, “Where is she?” The oil rag he’d been using earlier balled up in his fist, his knuckles going white. 

“I don’t know,” Bobby said flatly, going to the refrigerator to pull out a cool drink before continuing. 

“Tell me!” Dean bellowed, picking up a coffee mug from the counter and throwing it at the older hunter’s feet. 

Jumping back, Bobby glared at Dean and was about to lay into him when Sam came hurrying into the room. Sam glanced quickly between them, then at the shattered coffee mug before his eyes settled on Dean. “Holy bitch fit, Batman,” Sam murmured, then spoke a little louder, “What’s going on?”

Dean glared at an unmoving Bobby, “He was talking to Maggie.” Her name seemed to get stuck in his throat, an uncharacteristic crack in his voice as that one word that he hadn’t said in so long passed his lips.

“He would have told us if he’d found her,” Sam said as he thought, then he looked at Bobby, “You would have told us if-” 

“Which I haven’t,” Bobby said with finality, before he walked out of the kitchen and into his office wanting avoid getting anything else thrown at him. 

Stalking after him, Dean shoved Sam, who had stuck his hand out to try to stop his older brother from doing anything drastic. Slamming his hand on the desk, making the other two men jump, Dean stared at Sam as he growled, “He knows, Sammy. He fucking knows.” 

Dean’s anger had been bubbling under the surface ever since John died and even though Sam had tried to get him to at least vent, Dean wouldn’t talk about any of it. Fearing that Dean would take out that pent up aggression on Bobby; Sam grabbed him and pushed him against a wall. Dean was so taken by surprise that Sam had him pinned with his forearm against his throat before the older Winchester could put up much of a fight. “Stop it, Dean. Just. Stop,” Sam said firmly with a quick shake of his arm.

Looking into his brother’s eyes, Dean could see the concern and confusion. Sam didn’t understand. He’d never understood. Neither of them did. John was gone and Maggie, his Maggie could be found if Bobby would just say where she was. Their family was crumbling apart and he’d fight tooth and nail to keep them together if he could. There were some nights that Dean would wake and reach out for her, only to find the cold empty space where she used to be. He missed her and not even the warm burn of whiskey could fill the hole she left behind. No matter how much he tried. “I just want her back, Sammy,” Dean said, his voice soft and broken as a tear slipped down his cheek, “I  _ need _ her.” 

Sam sighed, letting his hold on Dean loosen as the fight drained out of his brother. Dean sank to the floor as he was overwhelmed by his situation. John was dead, Bobby knew where Maggie was, but he couldn't think of anything short of torturing the man who had been more of a father to him than John ever was just to get to his sister again. It was too much. He couldn't do it anymore. The tears fell. They came easily but he didn’t sob, he sat on the floor and let the pain and anguish wash out of him.

Staring down at Dean, not unfamiliar with the sight of his brother upset but never having seen Dean in this state, Sam was at a loss. Without thinking, he said, “I know you do. We’ll find her again someday. If she’s alive, we’ll find her.”

Bobby slowly closed his eyes. He’d never seen Dean breakdown like this and he realized that it was something he didn’t want to see again, if he could help it. It was hard enough to watch a grown man cry but seeing Dean like this was too much to take. “She ain’t dead,” Bobby admitted softly as he reached into the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out the last of his birthday whiskey. 

Wiping the tears from his face, Dean looked up at Bobby and asked, his voice rough with restrained emotion, “Where is she?”

Shaking his head as he thought of how to explain the situation, Bobby thought for a moment, “I don’t know. She calls, from time to time.”

Sam’s eyes were locked on Bobby, “What do you mean ‘from time to time’?”

“Once a week for going on three years now,” Bobby said, lifting his gaze to meet Sam’s, “She asked me not to tell you two. Hell, she even threatened to never call again.”

Dean hadn’t noticed he had stopped crying as he heard what had to be the only good news from the last month, if not longer. Leaning forward, he asked, “So she’ll call again? In a week?” 

The excitement in his voice, the hope, was almost too much for Bobby to stand. Neither seemed to register how long he’d had contact with Maggie, just that she was going to call again. He didn’t know if Maggie would even want to talk to them, despite the situation or even Dean’s insistence. Shrugging, Bobby replied, “Maybe. Sometimes she can’t, I don’t know when she’ll be calling again.”

“When did she say she’d call, Bobby?” Sam asked, a hint of anger in his voice that alarmed Bobby.

“Damnit, boy, I told you I don’t know,” Bobby reiterated, then he remembered, “She might be calling week after next, but even then, sometimes there will be months between calls.”

Bobby’s heart sank when he realized what he had to tell her the next time she did call. Finding out her father was dead is one thing, but then being bombarded by a very damaged Dean and a confused? Sam is another. That’s a lot to put on her plate, and Bobby wasn’t sure if he could do it, but knew that he had to. Taking a pull from the bottle of whiskey, Bobby announced, “She doesn’t know about John.”

Sam stared blankly at Bobby, “She doesn’t know?” After a moment of silence, Sam kicked the desk and shouted, “You didn’t tell her?!”

“No! I didn’t tell her,” Bobby said, his voice raising along with his shame, “You know as well as I do that if I did she’d be back here and then what? She’d be in the path of everything chasing after you two.”

Glancing back at Dean who was sitting still with his arms wrapped around his knees, looking at the floor. Sam’s chest heaved as he dragged a few breaths into his lungs, turning his attention back to Bobby, “She deserves to know. And if she came back, we’d protect her.”

“Against Yellow Eyes or the whole of hell if needed,” Dean said, his eyes drifting to the opened bottle of Johnnie Walker on Bobby’s desk. He’d had enough surprises to last until the end of days, but to have his sister with them again would at least be something positive in the entire shit show they called a life. 

“Don’t drag her into this. Your Daddy dying is more than enough Winchester blood spilt,” Bobby said as he grabbed a few glasses and poured a generous portion for each of them. Handing one to Sam, he walked over to Dean and held out the final glass,  “There’s enough coming down on you two without draggin’ her into it.”

“But-” Sam started to protest but Bobby held up his hand to silence him. 

Bobby shook his head, “Think about what’s the right thing for her. She got out. Be happy she was able to do what you two can’t seem to do. For all of your sakes, you’d best get used to the idea that Maggie might never come back.” 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Happy 26th Birthday, Sugar,” Gabriel said as he stood up. Offering her his hand as a suitcase appeared by his side, “Ready for the rest of your gift?”

“What is this?” Maggie said with a smile as Gabriel wrapped his arm around her, revealing a ornately wrapped and rather large gift box. 

The angel pressed his lips to her cheek, “A present.”

Maggie gingerly took the box and stared at it like she didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t everyday that she received a gift and it was never anything this large. 

Tired of watching her eyeball the box like it was going to spring limbs and do cartwheels around the room, Gabriel took her hand and placed it on the red bow, “Open it already. I have to know if you like it because the suspense is killing me.”

She shot him an amused half tilt of a smile as she tugged the bow free, “Of all the things that could kill you, I doubt suspense is one of them.”

“Are you kidding me? Suspense is right up there with chocolate deprivation. It’s a thing,” Gabriel sat on the arm of her chair and waited. 

“Poor Trickster, we wouldn’t want to deprive you of chocolate or gift giving,” Maggie pulled the top off the box and contorted her face in confusion. It was filled with art supplies: pencils, papers and watercolors in every variant on the color wheel. She pulled out a spiral bound sketch pad and looked quizzically at the archangel. “I don’t get it. I haven’t drawn in… a long time,” Maggie’s words trailed off as she tried to remember the last time she had sat down to do anything even resembling drawing.  

“So you  _ don’t _ like the gift?” Gabriel inquired, looking a little crestfallen that he may have misjudged her interest. 

“No! I love it but...I’m so out of practice it’d be a waste to use this stuff,” she said as she gently ran a finger over the sketch book. 

The sandy haired angel let out a sigh of relief and sank onto the cushion beside her, wedging himself into the space, and draping his arm over her shoulders. “It’s not a waste if it’s something you still enjoy. Use all you want and if you use it up practicing, I’ll get you more,” he said as he squeezed her in a side hug, “Just dedicate your first masterpiece to me.” 

Chewing her bottom lip nervously, she looked at him and smiled before kissing him chastely on the cheek, “Thanks, Gabe, this is great.”

“Happy 26th Birthday, Sugar,” Gabriel said as he stood up. Offering her his hand as a suitcase appeared by his side, “Ready for the rest of your gift?”

Maggie eyed the luggage and tilted her head in curiousity, “What ‘ _ rest _ of my gift’?”

“How does Dublin sound? We’ll chase some rainbows and you can learn what real whiskey tastes like,” he said with a smile, grabbing her hand and pulling her out of the chair. 

.oOo.

He’d felt it open; the Devil’s Gate. It was hard to ignore the sensation of thousands of demons being released into the world. Their hellish taint was like a slap in the face to anyone who could feel the shift in energies. It was enough for Gabriel to go searching for who’d been foolish enough to mess with Colt’s creation and found the Winchester boys smack dab in the middle of it. What was most disturbing to him was that when he saw the brothers, all he could see was the crossroads deal written all over Dean’s soul. In that moment, he knew _it_ was coming. The thing he’d dreaded since he’d left Heaven. 

With a heavy heart he fled to the top of a mountain and sat on a snow covered rock so he could think without distraction. It was a terrible situation. He’d already kept the knowledge of John Winchester’s death from her. Although he felt a hint of guilt, the human’s passing wasn’t something he considered to be a great loss because of how John had, or rather  _ hadn't _ , raised his children. Gabriel could never abide the mistreatment or neglect of children, no matter the circumstances. But this was different. How could he tell Maggie that her brother was damned to Hell? There was no way of knowing how she would react. No, he knew exactly what she would do. Maggie would do everything in her power to stop the unstoppable, a path that would lead her right to Michael and Lucifer. Gabriel cared for her too much to let that happen.  

They’d been doing so well together over the years, and he didn’t want to jeopardize any part of the life they’d built. Even if it meant leaving her in the dark until the last bell rang for this world. 

“That is because you love her,  _ Loptr _ ,” a beautiful blonde woman said as she came to sit beside the archangel. Her delicate elfin features belied the power and strength at her command. 

Gabriel looked up, not at all startled by her appearance. The mountain was a part of her domain and he’d known that before he arrived, but it was one of the few places that the other gods wouldn’t dare to enter for fear of the Valkyries that tended to stay in close proximity to their mistress, “That’s an old name, Freyja. One I haven’t heard in a very long time.” 

“Yet not as old as others you have,” she replied warmly as she leaned into his side, “So what brings you to my mountain? Surely you’re not trying to woo one of the Valkyrie.”

“No,” he chuckled, “I learned my lesson last time. I’ve come here to think.”

Freyja shook her head with an amused smile, “Brooding, that is what you’re doing,” she ran a finger over her necklace, “She must be a very special girl to capture your heart so, but does she return your sentiment?” 

“Yes,” Gabriel said softly as he looked out to the horizon, “She’s my friend, and I’m her’s **.** ” 

“I see. You can’t lie to me,” Freyja said, leaning forward to watch his reaction.

Sighing deeply, Gabriel admitted, “She’s in love with someone else.”

“Yes, her brother, the one who’ll bring about  _ your _ Apocalypse,” Freyja sighed, “Your kind lack poetry.”

“You don’t know he’ll do it. He hasn’t been taken yet. He could still resist,” Gabriel answered defensively.

Freyja gave him a knowing look, “You don’t believe that and Frigga has seen it. He will succumb, Loki, and the end will follow. You know this to be true.” 

“I know,” Gabriel sounded defeated and his shoulders slumped, “I just wanted more time with her. To show her what life has to offer.” 

“And to see if you could eventually sway her heart,” Freyja stood and ran her fingers through his hair gently, “I think there was once a human who said ‘Gather flowers while you may’ or something similar. Will you gather  _ your _ flowers or let them wilt in the field for fear of the harvest?” 

Gabriel turned to reply but the goddess was gone as quickly as she’d arrived. Rubbing his tired eyes he turned his attention back to the view. He’d let Maggie live in peace for as long as he could, even if it meant stealing her right to mourn her doomed brothers. 

.oOo.

Gabriel returned to the home he’d made for Maggie and sat on the back porch watching the fireflies dance around the yard. What Freyja had said, along with everything else, weighed heavily on his mind. He wasn’t usually prone to bouts of melancholy but he thought he had a right to be at this point. Music filtered out through the open window of the kitchen as Maggie cleaned up from making dinner, which he barely touched.

After a while, the music turned from the driving beats of modern rock to something softer and older. Something from her childhood that made Gabriel smile. He could always tell by her music what was about to happen and judging from the opening chords from Pink Floyd’s ‘The Wall’, she was worried. 

As expected, she came out before the first song was finished and sat a cup of hot chocolate in front of him, which was topped with whipped cream and peppermint sprinkles. She’d been raiding the baking supplies again. Sitting in the chair next to him, a glass of iced tea in her hand and kicking her feet up onto the railing, she asked softly, “Is everything okay?” 

“Perfectly fine,” Gabriel said, leaning forward to pluck a sprinkle from his drink. 

Maggie watched him for a moment, her eyes drawn together in concern. He wasn’t usually this quiet, this subdued; not with sweets in front of him. When she looked at his face, he seemed far away and not with her in this moment. Setting her glass on the floor, Maggie stood from her chair and crouched down and rested a warm hand on his knee, “You seem a little down is all. You know you can talk to me, I’m a fantastic listener.”

Gabriel looked down into her green eyes and realized in that moment how his brethren from so long ago could fall for the daughters of man. Despite the pain she carried inside, she held onto a sweetness that the world couldn’t tarnish. A tenderness that he hadn’t felt since his days amongst the Host. Reaching out, he cupped her cheek and brushed his thumb under her bottom lip, “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

Smiling bashfully, Maggie looked away. No one had said something like that to her in years. It felt good to know that someone still found her attractive. Even though she and Gabriel had been living together for years, she’d found that she was still lonely. Gabriel had been a trooper when it came to all of that, but there were times where their differences brought her feelings of isolation to light; he wasn’t human and could only fake it to a point. There was once or twice that she’d contemplated leaving. Going to find her brothers once more and to hell with John Winchester’s opinion; but she couldn’t overcome her own fear of their anger at being abandoned but then there was Gabriel. Maggie found that she’d grown to love the angel, but it wasn’t like it was with Dean. 

It was the soft touch of lips to hers that yanked Maggie from her thoughts, eyes widening with surprise as Gabriel gave her the most chaste kiss she’d ever had. Pulling back, Maggie stared at Gabriel in stunned confusion. Her own thoughts and emotions tangling up inside her.  _ Could she… should she even dare to try to bring Gabriel into the complicated tumult that was her life? Wasn’t he already? _ Maggie heard her name spoken softly, almost frightened. Focusing her attention, she registered that it was Gabriel talking. Without thinking she stretched up and took his lips once more, at first tentative and soft but quickly growing more earnest. 

At first, Gabriel had thought he’d made a monumental mistake when he’d kissed her but Maggie had surprised him when she kissed him back. Maybe Freya was right. Seize the moment and live life to the fullest until the end. So that’s what he was going to do. Wrapping his hands around her waist, he lifted her up and placed her on his lap. 

The change in position made her aware of where this was leading. She couldn’t deny that kissing Gabriel was good, but the nagging sense of guilt welled up inside her. It felt like she was being unfaithful and judging from how she and Gabriel were positioned, the kiss could end up starting something she’d regret.

She broke the kiss and sat back, looking down between them to avoid meeting the angel eyes, "I-I can't, Lou. It's not that you're not...you are... I just… I can’t.”

"Maggie," Gabriel said softly, his fingers gently flexing around her waist as he watched the conflicting emotions flit across her face. His own heart aching right down to his grace as he wondered if he misjudged things so badly between them. 

Maggie shook her head and pressed her forehead against his, "You know  _ why _ I can’t." 

Gabriel sighed and thought for a moment, "You chose me before." He tilted his face up, brushing his lips against hers. "Choose me again,' he pleaded softly.

Placing her finger on his lips but not moving away, she said, "I’m not leaving, but I can’t be yours, not like you want. Because I was  _ his _ first and I will be until the end, even if it’s just in my heart." Standing up, she took his hand and gave it a squeeze, “I’m sorry. I really am,” she said before slowly wandering back into the house. 

Gabriel bit back the urge to argue with her. To plead his case until she realized that he loved her enough to keep her hidden from Heaven, Hell and everything in between. That she would find no one as devoted to her as him. Then he saw the look in her eyes and dipped into the thoughts just underneath. All he saw was her brother’s eyes and smile staring back at him. It still wasn’t over for her and Dean, whether he liked it or not.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maggie was at a turning point in her life. Whether she knew it or not.

Thirty-six hours until Dean’s deal with Hell would come due and the hunter’s eyes were nearly crossing with the amount of lore he’d been reading about Hellhounds. He had no clue where Sam had gone off to but it gave him too much time to think. Too much time to think of all things he should have done, like look harder for Maggie. Dean should have insisted that he get to talk to Maggie when she called Bobby and he was there. Eight years was a long time to have no contact, but Bobby always assured them that she was alive and fine. It didn’t change the fact that he missed her and wished he would have stood up to John, packed up Sam and followed her out the door. Maybe things would have been different. Maybe he wouldn’t have needed to go for Sam at Stanford. Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t be condemned to Hell. Now, so close to the end what he regretted most was never being able to tell her… anything. Ever.

Dean stared down at his notepad, tapping the end of his pen against the yellow paper while these thoughts raced through his mind. Inhaling sharply, he flipped the page to a fresh one and started to write. 

 

> _Dear Mags,_
> 
> _I don’t know if you’ll ever get this letter but I’ll leave it with Bobby because he’s the only one who’s talked to you in years. Not that I’m bitter, just disappointed that you never thought to call me too._
> 
> _It’s been a long time and I find myself missing your voice. I even miss the way you’d laugh at the weirdest times in movies. Remember when we went to see Halloween 6? Or was it 3? It doesn’t matter because you laughed when the chick fell down because she was wearing heels and trying to run away from a guy who was walking.  It was kind of funny when you think about it._
> 
> _There are lots of things I’ll miss about life. Beer, a good burger, movies, Sam, Bobby and you. If I wasn’t going away I’d find you. I swear I would. Of course I always tell myself that when our birthday rolls around._
> 
> _It might surprise you to know that Sam and I looked for you over the years but wherever you’ve ended up, it’s too well hidden. I even tried a psychic once. They said you were surrounded by a “powerful aura”, whatever that meant. She said she couldn’t break through to find you. So either you’re hiding with someone or you are using some heavy magic. Maybe it’s better that you are. With the demons loose in the world and Dad gone and now me too… I would’ve liked to spend one more day with you. To hear you tell awful jokes or sing in the shower. Hell, I’d settle for sitting with you while you read. I have so many regrets in my life and how it ended with you, is one of them._
> 
> _I was wrong. There, I said it. I was wrong for letting you walk out. For letting Dad drive you away and not going with you. I’m sorry. You deserved so much more than that. Deserved more than anything I had to offer. More than me._
> 
> _You still mean the world to me and always will. There is no me without you and I pray to God that you can move on now that I’m gone._
> 
> _Don’t let Sammy try to bring me back. There’s nothing you can do to change my fate. I don’t regret the deal I made, but I hate that it’s taking me away so I can never hope to see you again._
> 
> _Please forgive me, Maggie. I never meant to hurt you. I did what I had to do to save Sam and I knew that you’d do the same._
> 
> _You will always be My Maggie._
> 
> _I love you,_
> 
> _Dean_  

Tearing the page free, he carefully folded it and shoved it into one of the motel envelopes and scrawled Maggie’s full name on the front. Tucking the letter into his duffel and wiping away the stinging in his eyes, he turned back to the desk and continued to read. What else was he supposed to do? He was a dead man walking.  

**.oOo.**

Maggie’s 29th year seemed to be the turning point in her life. She’d spent the last few years doing the one thing she never thought she’d get to do, attend college. Now with a Fine Arts Degree under her belt, Gabriel whisked her away for a Summer of, as he put it, “fun in the sun”. As the last days of Summer were rolling into Fall, she was sitting in a beach chair overlooking the Caribbean Ocean with her drawing pad in hand. So far she’d filled one book with small sketches and studies that ranged from monsters she’d seen, to her brothers in various emotional states. She found the exercises therapeutic, but at the same time it made her miss her family terribly.

Today she was shading in wisps of smoke, curling up from the frame of a house. It was an old memory that still haunted her dreams. She had just laid down her pencil to exchange it for an orange one to start adding color to the flames, when a shadow obscured the page.

“You should really consider drawing something from the present,” Gabriel said softly as he bent over her shoulder to look at her latest creation, “maybe a bird or a sunset.”

Maggie stilled her hand and tilted her head back against his shoulder, “I’ve tried, but I always seem to end up drawing stuff like this.”

“There’s a fine line between release and self flagellation. Take it from someone who knows.” Gabriel circled around and knelt in the sand beside her, “You can’t keep re-living the past, Maggie. Look forward and enjoy what you can, while you can.”

Taking his hand, she lifted it and kissed his palm softly and then pressed her cheek to it, “You’re right.”

“Of course I’m right. I’m always right,” he replied with a cheshire grin, “Now let's go try out that bikini you’ve got on and go swimming. The current is warm and waves mild.”

She smiled up at the angel and let out a feigned sigh of exasperation, “Fine, but no shark jokes.”

“Would I insult such a noble creature?” Gabriel asked, as he pulled himself up to his full height.

“You might if you thought it was funny,” Maggie stood from her chair and dropped her sketchpad to the seat. With a stretch, she backed away a few steps, “Last one in’s a rotten egg.” She blew him a kiss and darted off for the surf with a laugh.

“Seriously? What are you from? The cast of Grease?” he asked, as he chased after her.

Maggie turned and started singing the opening theme while running backwards through the shallow water. Suddenly she let out a scream and jerked her foot out of the surf, pulling a sea urchin along with it. She started to stumble backward, when Gabriel materialized beside her and caught Maggie in his arms. With tears welling in her eyes, the angel scooped her up and walked her back to the sandy shore. “I can’t take you anywhere.” He teased, trying to make light of the situation.

“Fuck you,” she hissed, as she gripped her ankle.

Smirking, he bent close so that they were eye to eye, “You wish.” He tapped the end of her nose and a wave of grace flowed through her, removing the venom and spines that had broken off in her foot.  

She let out a sigh of relief and wiggled her toes, “Spiney little balls of evil,” she muttered as she stretched out her leg.

“You’re the one who stepped on it,” Gabriel laughed.

“True, but who would think a ball of nails is a good design for an animal?”

“Believe it or not. Raphael. She thought the squishy thing it was before was too cute to go undefended. So, spines.” Gabriel looked over the waves and walked further up the beach to avoid the bed of creatures. “This way. It’s better up here,” he called out, when Maggie didn’t immediately follow. Hearing a hiss of pain for the second time, he whipped his head around, catching sight of Maggie holding her right shoulder and wincing, “What’s wrong? You get another urchin?”

She shook her head and lifted her hand to try and inspect her arm, “No, It just started burning like someone stuck a hot poker on me but it was bigger. Like a hand.”

Gabriel was about to go over and see what she was talking about when he heard _it_ . A ringing voice that filled his mind, grace and vessel. An announcement whose origins couldn’t be mistaken. The Heavenly Host and one of his brothers exclaiming for the whole universe to hear. A message that filled him with dread. The harvest had come. **“DEAN WINCHESTER IS SAVED!”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked what you've just read, leave a note in the comment section below. Feedback is the warm blankets writers snuggle down with at night.
> 
> You can also find me on tumblr at madamelibrarian.tumblr.com


	12. Chapter 12

**_THWACK!_ ** _..._ Maggie’s hand connected with Gabriel’s cheek with every ounce of strength she had. The news of her brother’s death clenching tight around her heart made it hard to breathe. It hurt, but at least she had the satisfaction of seeing Gabriel surprised for once. “How _could_ you?” she growled disdainfully, as she cradled her aching hand.

Gabriel raised his fingers to touch the welt left behind, but took every scathing look and irate word she threw at him. He understood that he deserved it and probably more, “I get it, if you’d just let me expla-”

“Explain what, _Gabriel_ _?_ ” she shouted loud enough to startle the nearby seagulls, “Explain how you kept Dean’s death from me or maybe how he’s been in _Hell_ all this time?”

“Would you calm down and stop shouting my name?” Gabriel hissed as he looked around, expecting someone to appear.

“GABRIEL, GABRIEL, MOTHER FUCKING _GABRIEL_!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, with her face tilted to the sky. Maggie leveled a scathing look at the archangel, her chest heaving with every breath she took and a tear slipping down her face. “I fucking trusted you. You were my friend, my only goddamned fucking friend that knew everything and accepted me and…I trusted you,” she doubled over as a sob racked her frame.

“Maggie...” Gabriel murmured, as he laid a hand on her shoulder, but she didn’t give him a chance to continue. She came up out of her crouch like vengeful harpy, hands flying as she unloaded her rage on the angel. Gabriel took a few hits before he wrestled her arms to hold her still. “I couldn’t tell you because you would have gone after him. You’d have found a way and then you’d be in the pit right along with him and I couldn’t...won’t see you fall like that.”

“Fuck you, you’re not my father, you fucking **fuck** ,” she screamed as her body bucked, trying to throw him off, but his arms were like iron bars, holding fast.

“That’s it,” Gabriel barked and flew them back to the house, a bit of sand following them in their wake. He let her go as soon as they landed and held up his hands to defend himself from another attack. A part of him was wanting to run for the hills and leave her to tear the place apart if she needed to; he hadn’t even gotten to the part of the story where Dean was resurrected before she’d flown off the handle.

“I’m leaving,” Maggie said, as she walked toward her room, unphased by the suddenness of their arrival. Her mind was racing from what Gabriel had done one second to how she could get away from him. She didn’t want to be anywhere near him and needed to be alone to think.  

Gabriel watched her, stunned at the announcement but not at all surprised, “Leaving?”

“Yes, Gabriel. Leaving. That thing people do when they don’t want to be in a place anymore,” she snapped back at him while tugging off her bathing suit and rifling through the drawers as she packed.

He couldn’t let her leave with this rift between them, not when he knew things were going to get so much worse. “You can’t,” he said as he stepped into her room.  

“Oh yeah? And why is that, Gabriel?” Maggie asked.

“Because,” he hesitated, unwilling to admit the true reason behind his reluctance to let her leave their safe haven, “it’s dangerous.”

Maggie snorted and stuffed her things into her duffel, “I’m not having this conversation with you. I need to find Sam and Bobby. Find out what happened.”

“Please, don’t leave,” Gabriel pleaded, fighting the urge to snap her things back to where they belonged. He realized that this situation was of his making, and it broke his heart to see her so upset.

Looking up, she narrowed her eyes at him in a perturbed squint, “Don’t start.”

Gabriel closed the distance between them and gently took her hand, “I love you, Maggie.”

“Don’t you _dare_ make this about love. You don’t love me, I’m just keeping your next meat suit warm,” she snarled as she ripped her hand out of his grip.

“That’s not true,” he said dejectedly.

Jerking the zipper closed, she slung the duffel bag she’d had since she was a kid over her shoulder and stalked past him, snatching up her wallet and shoving it into her pocket, “Isn’t it?”

“No,” Gabriel followed her and braced his hand against the door, blocking her exit. “It’s never been about that and you know it,” he insisted.

She shoved him away and pulled the door open, “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

* * *

 

Maggie shocked herself for the third time while trying to hotwire a car, and checked over the dash to see if anyone was coming. Taking a deep breath, she turned back to her task and inwardly cheered when the engine finally sprang to life. Shoving her bag into the passenger seat, she slammed the door shut, and drove off for the interstate. She knew that I-29 would take her all the way to Sioux Falls, but it’d be a long drive and she didn’t have anyone to share it with so she cranked up the radio and let her mind drift.

Speeding down the highway gave her time to think about the years that had passed. She wondered if Sam had gone to school like he wanted. If Dean ever stopped hunting even for a little while, or if John kept him running from job to job. But most of all she wondered if they ever missed her like she’d missed them. In the end it didn’t matter, because Dean was dead and she was driving toward the last place they’d all known peace.

By the time the sun had set on the first day of driving, she wasn’t nearly as far as she wanted to be, but she was exhausted and needed at least a few hours of sleep. However, the need for money was greater. She ditched the car in a parking lot, and took the couple of twenties she had in her wallet and spent the evening hustling pool at a nearby bar. By midnight she had enough cash for a full tank of gas and food for the next few days. Scoping out the lot, she found her next vehicle to ‘borrow’ and within a few minutes had it running and racing down the road to the nearest rest stop.

Three days later, she pulled into the gravel driveway of Singer Salvage. The sight of the old cars rusting away brought back memories and she had to fight back tears. Turning off the engine, she smiled as Bobby came out onto the front porch and shielded his eyes from the noonday sun in an attempt to see who was on his property.

Stepping out of the car, Maggie was about to wave to the grizzled old hunter when she saw Sam come out of the house and join Bobby. Someone else was close behind Sam, but Maggie couldn’t believe what she was seeing. It wasn’t possible. Gabriel couldn’t have been wrong. Her heart leapt up into her throat as her mind reeled. _He’s alive. How...oh God, he’s not dead,_ she thought as her feet refused to move and her whole body went numb with shock, as she asked, “Dean?”

Dean’s mind went blank as he shoved past his brother and Bobby. He bolted toward her, no other thought on his mind but confirming that she was real. He didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her, nuzzling his face into her neck as he was surrounded by the scent of her hair. Flooded with happiness he didn’t think he could still feel, Dean pressed his lips to her cheek and whispered, “I love you.”

“You’re alive?” she asked in amazement, her arms slowly regaining movement as she pulled him close, squeezing him tight. The tears she’d been holding back for days came rushing out as she clung to him, as she kept chanting that he was back, that he was alive, over and over in her mind.  

Raising his eyebrows at the sight before him, Bobby realized that he and Sam shouldn’t be witnessing Dean and Maggie’s reunion. Bobby jerked Sam’s shirt and muttered, “Get back in the house.”

Though he was confused for a moment, Sam knew to do as Bobby said. He glanced back to see her for another moment; he longed to hug her, to tell her about college, Jess, the psychic stuff... he wanted to tell her everything, but he could wait. Despite his own plans, he knew Dean needed this time more. Before they were out of sight, Sam could clearly see Dean’s hand cupping Maggie’s neck as their lips met in a kiss that couldn’t ever be mistaken as fraternal.

Sam had always known that his older brother and sister were close, a few times wondering to what extent, up until John had kicked Maggie out. That was the last straw for Sam. He didn’t care what Maggie and Dean had done, and he wasn’t going to be a good son if that meant betraying the closest thing he had to a mother. Maggie was the reason he went to Stanford, the reason he pursued Jess, and the reason he agreed to leave it all to hunt again with Dean. He’d hoped that one day they’d find her and life could be like it was before; just the three of them.


	13. Chapter 13

Dinner was a simple affair. Bobby made chili and the four of them passed the time talking as they waited for it to finish cooking. Maggie told them as much as she could about her life away from hunting, even going so far as to make Gabriel out to be an older man who’d hired her to a be a companion for his autumn years. A fact that Sam delighted in teasing her about just to watch Dean resist blowing a gasket. Maggie chuckled to herself and threw a discarded bottle cap at Sam. 

Bobby turned to the three of them and pointed his tomato soaked spoon to each of the Winchester’s, “You three stop acting like jackasses and be grateful you’ll are sittin’ at that table together.” he reached into the overhead cabinet, pulled out bowls and held them out to Dean, “If your sister wanted to marry a 90 year old for his money that’s her business. Even if you two got something goin’ on that I ain’t even gonna start tryin’ to wrap my head around.” 

Dean’s face drained of all color and snuck a glance at his sister. She was equally as pale and looked like she was about to vomit or burst into tears, “I d-don’t know what…” she started but Bobby waived her off. 

“Don’t even try to deny it, Maggie. I ain’t blind and I may have been born at night, but it sure as shit wasn’t last night,” the older man snorted, “Known about it for years and I can’t say I approve, but who am I to judge.”

Taking the bowls, Dean frowned at Bobby then looked to Sam. Part of him terrified that Sam was going to jump over the table and kick his ass, but another part of him relieved that they didn’t have to hide anymore. The youngest Winchester shrugged, “There are worse things in the world to worry about.”

Maggie paying little attention to her brothers, stood slowly from the table and kept her eyes locked with her uncle, “So you aren’t mad?”

“Mad? Why the hell would I get mad for?” Bobby’s eyes narrowed as his gaze flicked between the twins, confused as to why she’d ask such a question. From the whipped pup look Dean was sporting and the way Maggie’s hand was clutched so tight around the top of her chair that her knuckles had turned white, he didn’t have far to guess but he needed to hear them confirm it. “Well?”

Dean was the first to speak up, avoiding Bobby’s gaze, “Dad ran her off. Pulled his gun on her to make sure she left.” 

“What?!” Sam asked incredulously, “Why didn’t you stop him? You always said you’d protect us from everything. Or was dad the exception?” 

“It wasn’t that simple, Sam!” Dean snapped, “You know how he got when he was pissed.” 

“But a gun, Dean? He threatened to use a gun to-” Sam tried to argue but whatever he was about to say was cut short when Maggie bolted for the door, pushing past Bobby and out onto the front porch. 

Stunned by her sudden departure the three men stared at each other before Sam let out an exasperated sigh and followed Maggie out. The screen door banged shut behind him as he caught sight of her going for her car. “Maggie!” he shouted as he ran down the steps, catching up with her in no time. Grabbing her wrist, he pulled her to a stop, “Where are you going?” 

She shook her head but didn’t turn to face him, “I can’t do it again, Sammy,” she choked out through her sobs, “Not with Bobby and you. And God knows what’s going to happen when Dad comes back.” Maggie harshly wiped the back of her hand against her cheek. 

“Dad?” Sam murmured as he turned her around to face him. It’d hadn’t occurred to him until that moment that she didn’t know, hadn’t heard that John Winchester was dead. “Maggie, Dad’s gone... He died... over two years ago.”  

Maggie looked up with eyes wide with surprise, “He’s dead?” she whispered, “But he can’t be. He’s...” 

“It was a demon,” Sam explained carefully, not wanting to lay to much of the details at her feet.

The news of their father’s passing was shocking. It was something she knew was a possibility but she would never wish for, even after he’d forced her out on her own. She’d harboured a good deal of hatred for the man for many years but he was still her father and that should elicit some kind of reaction. Tears maybe or sadness, but all Maggie felt was relief, like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. That’s what made her briefly wonder if she was a bad person for not feeling remorse for the loss of her father.

Sam placed his hand on the side of her cheek, tilting her face to look up at him, “Stay, Maggie. I don’t care about you and Dean. I mean, I care for you guys but  _ that _ doesn’t bother me.” 

“But why? This isn’t normal, family isn’t supposed to be like this,” she whispered so she wouldn’t be heard beyond their little circle. 

“It’s more common than you think, Maggie. This happens in mythology, history, fiction… and considering how we didn’t have anyone but each other, it seems to me that it’s probably the most natural reaction you two could have had,” Sam took a deep breath and leaned down so that he was eye level with her, “The only real problem comes from inbreeding and you and Dean aren’t planning on having kids, right?”

“No, we’ve always been careful,” she admitted, blushing slightly as she wasn’t used to talking about any aspect of her relationship with anyone, not even Dean. 

“Good,” Sam straightened up and kissed her forehead, “So are you going to come back to the house on your own or am I going to have to throw you over my shoulder?”

“Bobby,” was all she said in reply as she looked toward the house. 

Sam gave her what Dean had started to call his ‘bitch face’, “You weren’t listening to him at all. I don’t think he gives a damn either. All that he’s going to worry about is if we’re all in one piece and happy. You’re happy right, with Dean, I mean.” 

Maggie nodded mutely.

“Then it’s settled. You’re coming back to the house, eating dinner and then you owe me a movie night that’s been over 6 years in the making,” Sam threw his arm over her shoulder and tugged her away from her car and back toward the house, “I think I saw a copy of ‘Blazing Saddles’ in Bobby’s collection.” 

Closing her eyes she rested her head against Sam’s chest as they walked, she’d never imagined she’d be back with her family again, and never like this. Nestled in the arm of her little brother she found that the worry of the past week was ebbing away and leaving her feeling content for the first time ever. 

The windows were clouded over with condensation from Maggie and Dean’s heavy breathing as they clung to one another. As soon as the movie had finished, Dean grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the Impala, shouting toward the house that they were going on an ice cream run. Said outing turned into parking at the lake with some heated kisses that quickly turned into other activities that truly tested Baby’s suspension.

Dean’s hand skirted up her leg to grip her thigh, wrapping her leg around his waist and pulling her close as he thrust deeper into her. Their mouths parting from one another only long enough to nip and lick any exposed skin available. “God, I missed you,” Dean groaned, “Never letting you go.” 

Maggie arched up into him as his cockhead brushed against her g-spot, “N-never,” she panted, her fingernails dragging along the curve of his bare ass to leave reddened scratch welts behind. 

Moaning, Dean pressed his mouth to hers and slipped his tongue along her bottom lip. He’d been with plenty of women over the years but this moment, here and now, was like coming home. It wasn’t necessarily about the sex, it was the intimacy that they shared, something that he’d crave no matter how long they’d been apart or the distance between them. 

Maggie’s cries deepened in tone as she started to quiver beneath him, her slick channel gripped and squeezed at the length of him as she came around his cock. 

Breaking the kiss, Dean pressed his forehead against hers and urged her on while the sound of skin slapping against skin punctuated every cry Maggie made, “That’s it. Cum for me, Mags.”

When she calmed, she pushed at his chest with a playful smirk, “You’re turn.”  

With a bit of maneuvering, Dean sat back and watched her straddle his lap, teasing the tip of his cock against her entrance. He clutched her hips in order to pull her down but she resisted with a laugh and a hand braced on the ceiling, “Don’t be mean, Maggie.” 

“This isn’t mean. Mean is putting on my clothes and crawling in the back seat,” she dipped down, taking him halfway in before lifting her hips. 

Surging toward her, Dean captured her lips and thrusted up into her with a grunt, swallowing her mewl of pleasure. With his length buried deep inside her, she held his shoulders tight as she circled her hips. 

Dean’s arms wound around her back, pulling her tight up against his chest, nuzzling into her breasts and taking the opportunity to suck one pert nipple after the other between his lips. Running his tongue around the bud, dragging a gasp from his sister.

“De,” Maggie sighed as her movements quickened, droplets of her wetness trailing down his length and balls. 

“Close, Mags. So close,” Dean gritted out, his fingers pressing into her skin hard enough for white rings to halo around them. 

Leaning forward, Maggie whispered into his ear, “Cum for me, big brother.”

Dean’s eyes slammed shut as her words washed over him. The taboo acknowledgement of their relationship pushing him over the edge he’d been teetering on. With a cry, he came deep inside her, flooding her pussy with his cum. 

She didn’t stop moving until she felt him soften and start to slip from her. Kissing him sweetly, then resting her head on his shoulder to enjoy the postcoital euphoria and the smell of Dean’s cologne. 

Cradling her in his arms, Dean took deep breaths to try to regulate his racing heart. It wasn’t until he felt a drop of warm liquid on his thigh that he realized they’d forgotten something very important. They’d been so carried away that he’d forgotten his golden rule. “Shit!” he exclaimed, dropping his head back against the seat. 

“What?” Maggie asked with concern, lifting her head up. 

“We forgot the damn condom.”

Shaking her head, Maggie kissed his chin, “Don’t worry about it, Dork.”

“Don’t worry?!” he sounded incredulous as he glared at her, “Mags, I just-”

She silenced him with her finger to his lips, “It’s called birth control, Dean. I’ve been on it for years.” 

He felt a stab of jealousy race through him at her declaration. If she was on birth control, there was only one reason in his mind that she would need it. With them being separated for so many years, he felt the anger rise in him at the thought of her with another man, then he remembered her talking about being some kind of companion to an old geezer, “What do you mean birth control? You didn’t... Not with that old guy of yours.”

Sighing, she slid off his lap and flopped into the seat beside him.  “Could you be a bigger dick?”

“Mags,” Dean scooped up his jeans from the floorboard and tugged them on, “It’s just...you’ve been gone a long time and I don’t know what’s happened or anything.”

“You have to trust me on this. I’ve been taking them since I was 18 and I never had sex with Lou, ” she answered patiently, turning to face him and laying her hand over his, “So unless you're carrying a nasty little infection, we’re safe. Right?” 

“Right,” He looked down at their joined hands, thinking about how he’d been brought back without a mark on him and how that kind of healing had to extend to the unseen things as well. Lifting her hand, he brought it to his lips to place a small kiss on her knuckles. Then a thought crossed his mind, making him smile. 

“What?” Maggie asked with an answering smile stretching across her face. 

Dean looked up and waggled his eyebrows, “You de-hymenated me.” 

She snorted out a laugh as she sidled up closer, “First of all that’s not a word and second, you don’t have a hymen.” 

“Think about it, Mags. I get pulled back here without a mark on me. No scars, bullet holes or crooked fingers from too many breaks.” He took a moment to run his eyes over the length of her body, “You popped my cherry.” 

“You are such a dork,” Maggie teased as as she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. Just as the kiss turned heated, the sound of Dean’s phone ringing from the floor startled them. 

With a hissed curse, Dean fumbled around until he found the phone and checked the caller ID, “It’s Sammy. Probably wondering where we are.” 

Maggie plucked the phone out of his hand and answered it long enough to say, “We’ll be back in an hour,” then hung up and tossed the phone on the dashboard. She turned with a lascivious grin toward her brother,  “For once we’re not going to go running when he calls.” 


	14. Chapter 14

For the last few years, Maggie and Gabriel would do all sorts of things to celebrate Christmas. It wasn’t because she was particularly religious or that he really cared; it broke up the monotony of winter. Gabriel was in it mainly for the cookies.

This Christmas had been different. It was quieter and almost somber with only her and Bobby. The cold South Dakota wind howling at night made the season seem all that much lonelier. But she tried her best. After a bit of prodding, she was able to convince Bobby to go out with her to choose a tree. They spent the afternoon stringing popcorn and cutting paper into snowflakes to hang on the branches. Once the tree was decorated, they sat in the dark and watched the Christmas tree lights flicker while carols played on the radio.

She didn’t regret staying with Bobby. After what could be referred to as a heated discussion that lasted longer than it should, Dean decided that she would stay behind while he and Sam took care of a few hunts. A few weeks turned into a couple of months and now she had wished she could have spent one proper holiday with her brothers. All of them, together. Instead they rolled in just days shy of New Years.

When Sam and Dean finally made it back to Bobby’s, they were quieter than usual. There was an aire of distance between them that left Maggie on edge. At first she tried to ask Sam what had happened over the last couple of months, but all he’d say was that it’d been a little rougher on the road than usual. The way Sam evaded answering the question told her more had happened than a few ‘bad’ hunts. Something that had shaken her brothers. Considering the way the boys were acting, Maggie thought that they were going to stay at Bobby’s to watch the ball drop on TV while looking for a new case.

As she was folding the last of her laundry, she felt Dean’s hands on her waist. Turning her head to glance over her shoulder, she smiled as he kissed her cheek.

“Come up to help me fold socks?” she asked, tossing a pair of jeans on the bed in front of her.

“As exciting as that sounds, no. I wanted to see if you had plans tonight?” he plucked a pair of pink panties with a cartoon cat on the front out of the basket and cocked his eyebrow.

Maggie snatched the garment from him and tossed it back in the basket, “No, I don’t have plans.”

“Good. Then throw on your kitty panties and let’s go. We’re going out,” Dean said.

“Well, with an invitation like that, how can a girl resist?” Maggie shook her head with a hint of a smile and went back to her work.

Dean patted her backside before walking out the door, “You can’t. Now change clothes. We’re heading out in ten.”

* * *

Walking down the stairs, uncomfortably tugging at the sweater to make sure it covered her ass completely, Maggie hoped that she wasn’t overdressed. At least she was wearing leggings to cover anything that the sweater left exposed. She even went so far as to apply the barest amount of makeup. It wasn’t until she saw the looks on her brothers’ faces that she began to doubt her choice. “Too much?” she asked, giving her dress a final tug.

“Woah,” Sam said, scratching the back of his neck. Looking over to Dean, he saw his brother light up as she leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek.

“So this is good for where we’re going?” Maggie asked, looking between them, noticing that they were dressed in crisp button down shirts and jeans.

“Yeah. It’s New Years, everybody will be a little dressed up,” Dean reassured her. “Now let’s get moving,” he said, jingling the keys to the Impala.

Maggie looked at Sam and jerked her head toward Dean as they left the house and went for the car, “So he’s still bossy, huh?”

Sam rolled his eyes and nodded before taking his usual seat up front. Walking to the driver’s side behind Maggie, Dean watched her as she climbed in the back seat, fixing her dress as she got comfortable. Before shutting her door, he winked at her, watching the grin spread across her face.

Riding in the backseat of the Impala brought back a lot of memories for Maggie, most of them good ones. So many years had passed since she’d been in this spot and it still smelled the same. Leaning forward on the back of the front seat, she chatted with Sam and Dean while the miles of road passed beneath them.

The drive wasn’t far and before long they were pulling up in front of the bar. The sign out front advertising that they had the largest selection of beers in the state. Smiling, Maggie nudged Dean and said, “I think we found your mecca.”

“Maybe if they had the largest selection of _pie_ ,” Sam joked as Maggie giggled in reply.

Parking the car, Dean cut off the engine, catching a glimpse of Maggie in the rearview mirror. It felt right, having her in the back seat again. “Shut up. I like pie,” he said, getting out of the car.

Maggie followed after and pulled her jacket closer to herself against the cold while Sam fired off another quick jab to Dean. Even as a kid he wanted to get the last word in. Looking up at Dean, Maggie shook her head slightly when he opened his mouth to retort. “We were just teasing, Dean. It’s too cold out for you two to start that brother shit when there are perfectly good onion rings inside.”

Surrendering, Dean grabbed Maggie’s hand and laced his fingers with hers, “C’mon, let's go in before we all freeze our asses off.”

Entering the building, Sam made a beeline for the bar leaving Maggie walking hand in hand with Dean. As soon as they were amongst the crowd, she tried to gently pull her hand from his. Just like they’d done in the past. If they weren’t overly affectionate in public then no one else could catch on. When she felt Dean’s hand tighten, she looked up at him, confused as to why he wouldn’t let her go.

“It’s just us here,” he whispered, pulling her into his side, “we don’t have to hide anymore.”

“But what about...,” she trailed off, scanning her eyes around the room and settling them on Sam.

Reaching out, Dean brushed her hair behind her ear and tilted her face toward him. “Doesn't matter,” he said, leaning in to kiss her, not caring who saw. Maggie let out a muffled squeak when Dean’s lips met hers but quickly melted into the kiss, her hand curling into the lapel of his jacket.

“Get a room,” Sam teased, brushing past them to an empty booth.

“You get a room!” Dean’s face dropping as he realized his comeback was pathetic.

Stepping back, Maggie tugged on his hand still clasped in hers, leading Dean to the booth where Sam sat. Sliding in, she took one of the beers and sipped on it, immediately making a disgusted face, “Yep, beer still tastes like sweat.”

“More for us then,” Dean said as he pulled her glass away.

Four beers and a couple cocktails in, Sam’s phone buzzed on the table. Reading the text message, he got up and signalled to Dean that he needed to make a phone call. Taking advantage of the unexpected alone time, Dean leaned in and kissed Maggie, savoring the taste of fruity alcohol on her lips.

Maggie, feeling the warm buzz of her drink, giggled against Dean’s lips, chasing after them when he pulled back slightly.

Giving in to her again, he kissed her once more, then whispered in her ear, “Dance with me, Mags.”

“I don’t dance, Dean,” Maggie said, scooting farther into the booth.

Grinning at her as he reached out for her hand, Dean said, “Nobody puts Baby in a corner, not even _my_ baby.”

Maggie glared up at him, “I am not your car and don’t quote Dirty Dancing. It’s weird.” Despite her protests, she relented, taking his hand and following him out to the dance floor.

Holding Maggie close, he felt her relax into his arms and the next song started. _Beast of Burden_ by The Rolling Stones came over the speakers. Swaying together to the beat of the song, Dean leaned his head down, pressed his lips to the shell of her ear and whispered the line, “Oh little sister, pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty, girl.”

Maggie felt her cheeks burn, as she hid her face against his neck. This was new behavior for the both of them and it was a little overwhelming, but it was nice. To be held in public and treated like any other woman in the room, except she wasn’t just any other woman. She was Dean’s and he was making sure everyone knew it. Curling her hands around his shoulders, Maggie lifted her head and looked up into his face, “Is this a date? Like an honest to God real date?”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” Dean said with a nod.

“Well,” Maggie said slowly, “since this is our first, it’s only fair to tell you something important.”

“And what’s that?” he said, pulling back from Maggie to look at her suspiciously.

A mischievous glint flashed in her eyes as she said teasingly, “I’m a lady and I don’t put out on first dates.”

“Really? Well.. I gotta go,” Dean joked, turning as if he was going to leave.

Maggie grabbed him, pulling him back for one last dance, “Don’t be an ass. You got me out here to dance. So dance, Dork.”

* * *

 

Once they were home and everyone was in bed, Maggie finished locking down the house before heading up to the room she shared with Dean. Bobby had told them both that he was fine with them ‘bunking together’, as long as it was quiet after lights out.

Even though it was dark, she could tell that Dean was still awake and brooding. Pulling back the covers, she curled onto her side so that she was facing him and took his hand in hers. This was one of the few ways she could ever get him to open up. When the lights were low and blankets provided a illusion of solitude.

“All locked up?” he asked softly, closing the distance between them.

Nodding, her eyes searched his expression for some hint as to what was going on. He’d been happy earlier and she couldn’t figure out why the sudden change in him, “What’s wrong, Dean? Did something happen between you and Sammy that you’re not telling me about?”

Dean was quiet for a while, looking down at their interlaced fingers like they held the answers and she patiently waited. Finally, he moved his arm and wrapped it around her waist, his nose pressing against the hollow of her throat, “I-I can’t talk about it, Mags. It’s…it’s not,” he started and then abruptly stopped. His throat, that had once felt clear, was now tightening up no matter how much he tried to prevent it.

Maggie sensed Dean was going through something that he refused to share. It was almost like he was afraid to let her in on the darkness of his life and she often wondered if it was out of fear. “It’s okay, Dean,” she whispered, holding him tight while her fingers stroked over the short hair at the nape of his neck, “I’m not going anywhere. You take your time telling me, but promise me that you _will_ tell me. Eventually. I can take it. Whatever it is. I’m not going to leave you guys again.”

“You might,” Dean said quietly, “If you knew what I-what happened. What Sam’s done. You’d leave.”

Pressing her cheek against the top of his head, Maggie drew a deep breath. She had to admit that Dean had a point, at least from his perspective. Eight years of separation would lead anyone to believe that she would do a runner at the smallest hint of strife. If she really thought about it, she’d done that very thing to Gabriel. Regardless if he was an Angel, she’d gone for the jugular when he’d confessed his feelings for her. But in her defense, she’d just found out her brother had been resurrected from Hell and Gabriel had hidden things from her. ‘ _Maybe that’s why he won’t answer me anymore’_ _,_ she thought before replying to Dean, “I don’t care what you did, I’ll stay. I may get pissed but I’ll stay.”

Lifting his face from where it was buried against her neck, Dean gazed into her eyes and saw what he needed: acceptance. Pure, unburdened acceptance. He had his sister back. His sister who understood him better than anyone despite the years they were apart. She knew him inside and out and wouldn’t reject him. As he felt tears stinging his eyes, he pulled her close again and whispered, “Thank you.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maggie makes a discovery about Sam that she wishes she could unlearn.

Over the course of the next week it was decided that Maggie would go on the road with Dean and Sam. She felt that enough time had been spent with her being a ‘civilian’. Maggie wanted to help. It was something they’d talked about but she couldn’t help by hanging around Bobby’s. She’d gotten the feeling that even though they would talk about hunting around her, they were filtering the content and there were conversations that took place when she wasn’t around. Maybe this would give her the chance to get to know Sam again and find out what was causing the tension between her brother’s. 

Knowing that neither one of them had started to get ready to the hit the road, Maggie gathered up their duffle bags and pulled out the dirty laundry stuffed inside. Grabbing Sam’s jacket, Maggie turned out the pockets so that she could drop the garment into the washing machine. Reaching into the inside pocket of the jacket, her fingers brushed something cold and metallic. Pulling out the object, she saw that it was a slim flask with ornate designs. Maggie shrugged, not seeing the harm in testing if Sam was a whiskey guy or vodka, and took a sip. Spluttering and gagging almost immediately, she leaned over the utility sink and saw blood. Dumping the flask into the sink as her mind reeled, Maggie couldn't believe what she was seeing. It had to be a trick.

“Are you okay?” Sam asked, having come into the laundry room when he heard Maggie gagging, worrying that she might be sick. His eyes fell to the flask in her hand. Expression darkening, Sam charged over with a shout and shoved her out of the way in hopes of saving the last of Ruby’s blood before it went down the drain. 

Everything happened with such quickness that Maggie didn’t realize what was going on until her body slammed against the counter, her arms flailing to try and catch herself but only managing to send a bottle of detergent and a mason jar to the ground. Wincing at a sharp pain in her ribcage, Maggie glared at the back of Sam’s head as he retrieved the flask and tucked it away.  

Dragging in a stilted breath, Maggie wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and fought the urge to be sick at the bitter metallic taste in her mouth. “Why do you have blood in a flask?” she spat out. 

Fidgeting as he tried to keep his anger to himself, Sam clenched his jaw as he said, “I gotta go.” 

“Not until you tell me what’s what’s going on,” Maggie grunted as she struggled to push herself up straight. 

“It’s none of your damned business,” he said, grabbing his jacket and empty duffel, jamming his things that were still dry, back inside.

“Oh, I’m  _ sorry _ . Did I stumble on your embarrassing vampire fetish? Is it the glitter? You wanna feel like a pretty vampire princess and the blood is just to complete the look?" Maggie asked with a hand braced just under her left breast where the pain seemed to be the worst. Even though she hurt physically, it hurt more that Sam would shove her like that and not seem to give a damn what happened to her. “Honestly, what the fuck? Why are do you have blood?"

Sam stopped in his tracks, rounding on Maggie and pointing a finger in her face as he snarled, “You don’t have the first clue about what you're talking about. So do us all a favor and shut the hell up for a change. You’re not Mom and you never will be. No matter how much you and Dean play house.”  

Maggie couldn’t move as she stared at her little brother in disbelief. Here was the man, who once upon a time, begged her to stay just to watch movies with him. Who’d run to her when he was scared of the dark and the pistol didn’t protect him from the ‘monsters’ in his closet. Now she barely recognized him. 

Blinking back the stinging in her eyes, Maggie swallowed around the choking tightness in her throat, “I-I know I’m not Mom, but I tried to do the best I could.” 

“Then where were you when I died?” Sam growled, towering over her, “Or maybe when Dean sold his soul to get me back and spent forty years in Hell, ten of them torturing others? Better yet, where were you when I found out that a demon named Lilith held the contract and was the key to keeping this world from going to Hell; literally? I’ll tell you where you were. You were gone, Maggie. You ran off. So I’m doing what I have to do to make it right.”

“Stop…,” Maggie said softly, hoping he wouldn’t tell her anymore while her gaze lowered to the floor. She put her hand on his chest, trying to keep what distance was left between them. Her mind turning over and over, trying to take in the accusations Sam was throwing at her as a tear slid down her cheek. 

“I can’t stop,” Sam said, thinking of his ultimate goal and not what was happening right in front of him. Taking a step back from his sister, he said, “I need the demon blood so I’ll be strong enough. I can kill demons and if I can kill them, I can kill Lilith.” 

Maggie looked up, shaking her head, “Sammy… Sam, you are strong enough,” When he kept walking out the door, she followed after him until he was almost outside and put herself in his path. She didn’t care if he shoved her again. All she could think about was how her little brother was about to walk away and she couldn’t let that happen. Not when there were so many questions left unanswered. “This blood thing is a tool. A really shitty tool. I don’t know what it really does to you or what it’s going to do to me, but we’ll figure it out.” 

“There’s nothing to figure out,” Sam said with a roll of his eyes, “Ruby says this is the only way.”

“Who’s Ruby?” Maggie asked. That was a name she’d heard once. It was a hushed conversation between Sam and Dean that had ended when she’d came into the room. 

With a heavy sigh, Sam’s shoulders sagged as the anger inside him finally subsided, only to be replaced by an inkling of shame as he said, “She’s a demon who’s been helping us find a way to stop Lucifer from being set free.” 

Maggie’s eyes widened as she took a step back and leaned heavily against the door. This was too much to take; deals with demons, Sam carrying blood in a flask, trying to stop Lucifer from rising and now this demon named Ruby. So lost in her thoughts she didn’t pay attention to how she moved and twisted in a way that made every muscle rebel, dragging a whimper from her as her hand pressed against her side. She knew right then that there was something not right inside her. 

Hearing the sound Maggie made, Sam’s attention focused back to the present. He was confused for a moment before he put together that she was hurt and she hadn’t been before he shoved her. Placing his hands on her shoulders he gently guided her from the door. “Where does it hurt? Specifically?” he asked, as his hands started skimming over her ribs. 

Maggie didn’t have time to answer before his hand hit the spot and caused her to squeal through clenched teeth. The adrenaline coursing through her system was finally burning out, making the pain more evident. An old trick all three of them had learned when they were younger. 

Lifting the hem of her shirt, he circled around to get a look at her side. It was red, angry and starting to swell. “I-I’m sorry, Maggie,” he whispered as he touched the spot gently. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. 

“I forgive you, Sammy,” she said, sounding defeated, “Just be prepared for Dean to have a small cow.” 

“Small?” Sam snorted at the absurdity of Dean doing anything other than going nuclear when he saw or heard about this. 

Maggie turned around and took hold of Sam’s chin, “I hurt myself. Right?” When Sam looked at her like he was going to protest at her explanation, she wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tight, “I hurt  _ myself _ and we’re going to find another way to stop the oncoming shit storm.  _ Right _ ?”

“You sound like…” Sam started, but Maggie cut him off with a pinch to his side. Instead of arguing further, he put his arms around her shoulders and held her as if she were made of glass, “I’m sorry. So sorry. The blood is the only way I can make Lilith pay and I didn’t know what else to do.”

“This is the only time I’ll ever cover for you like this. This is big, okay? So this is what we’re going to do. You’re going to take me to the hospital for x-rays and then we’re going to do things differently.” Maggie said with a cheek pressed against his chest. “ _ Understand _ ?”

Sam nodded solemnly but feared Maggie still didn’t understand. His path was set and it was the only one that could get him where he needed to be. Sam would do as she asked and make sure she wasn’t severely injured but then he’d leave. He had no choice anymore. Lilith had to die.


	16. Chapter 16

The morning after their fight Maggie woke to Dean standing next to her bed with her prescription bottle of pain pills in his hand. The expression on his face was unreadable as he stared down at the label. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Maggie carefully sat up so as not to pull the already bruised and inflamed muscles around her fractured rib. “How did the milk run go?” she croaked out.

“Vicoprofen. Magdalene Winchester. Avera McKennan Hospital,” Dean read aloud, sounding tired, before shaking the bottle and setting it back on the nightstand, “What happened?”

Maggie had the words on the tip of her tongue. The story about how she fell and hurt herself but when her eyes met Dean’s she couldn’t say them. Sam had been right. Knowing what happened and using that story made her sound like a Saturday afternoon movie on the Lifetime Network. Instead, Maggie kept the explanation to herself and eased out of the bed, forgetting for a moment that she’d gone to sleep wearing nothing but a pair of underwear. The blankets slipped around her waist and leaving the livid bruising on full display.

Dean took one look at the injury and crawled onto the bed, laying his hands on Maggie’s shoulders to stop her. Bending down to get a closer look, he gently ran his hand over the mark, “Mags, what the hell? You look like you were thrown against a wall.”

“I’m fine. It’s just a little hairline fracture,” Maggie answered as her heart hammered in her chest with the desire to tell Dean what had happened and the fear of what he would do when he heard. The last thing she wanted was him and Sam to get into a fight. Not right now. Not when she promised Sam that she would help him. Shaking her head, Maggie stood with a small grunt. Crossing to the closet she pulled out one of Dean’s flannel shirts.

“A fracture?!” Dean asked, walking toward her with a mix of concern and the desire to kill whatever had hurt her.

With a little effort, Maggie put on the shirt but stood with her back to Dean, fidgeting with the buttons of her shirt instead of fastening them. She couldn’t do this. It was so difficult to keep all of this from Dean, especially when she wanted nothing else but to curl up with him and forget everything. Whatever is going on with Sam was still unknown, she couldn't throw him under the bus, and with that thought she remembered being slammed into the counter. Wincing at the memory, Maggie said, “I’m fine.”

“Like hell you are,” Dean growled as he turned her to face him. Seeing that she wasn’t fastening her shirt, he reached out and started to do up the buttons. “Are you going to tell me what happened?” he asked after a few deep breaths.

“Let it go for right now,” she responded softly, her hand clasping over his, “You’ve got enough on your plate and I’ve got a handle on this. I promise.”

Dean didn’t like not getting an answer. It seemed like too many people in his life gave him half truths and even fewer answers. Unfortunately, Maggie had the same headstrong determination that their late father had which meant no one would get answers until she was good and ready to give them. Sighing, Dean tilted her face up and kissed her sweetly, “Have it your way. For now. How about until you wanna talk I make you an omelette?”

“Extra mushrooms?” Maggie asked with a small tilt of her lips in the hint of a smile. When Dean nodded, she patted him on the chest and turned to head for the door, “I’ll go wake up Sammy. See if he wants breakfast.”

Snorting, Dean followed her, “Yeah, poor princess couldn’t be bothered to sleep on the couch. Figured that he’d steal Bobby’s bed.”

Maggie stopped, her eyes widening as she turned to look back at Dean, “He’s not downstairs? But he said… ,” she trailed off as she thought for a moment before charging out of the room and down the hall, shouting for Sam as she went. Not finding him in any of the rooms, Maggie turned to head back down the hall, the exertion and panic making her ache with each breath.

Following her each step the the way, Dean waited until the upstairs room was checked before he stopped Maggie with a grip on her shoulders, “Slow down. You’re going to hurt yourself. He probably went on to the store or running,”

She shook her head in denial. He wouldn’t do this, not after everything he’d told her and they’d talked about at the hospital. “You don’t understand, Dean. He promised he wouldn’t leave. That he’d stay so I could help him.”

“Help him with what?”

Maggie looked up at her brother with a mix of fear and sadness and before she could stop herself, the words she’d been holding back came pouring out,  “Ruby. He’s drinking Ruby’s blood and he shoved me to keep me from dumping out his stash. That’s how I got hurt.”  

Dean was stunned. Sam had been doing some questionable things over the last few months, namely his association with a demon, but to be drinking blood and attacking family. That was taking it too far. “I’m going to fucking kick his ass!” Dean snarled, turning on his heel and storming down toward the stairs.

“Dean!” Maggie called after him, following close behind. This was exactly what she wanted to avoid earlier. Brother pitted against brother. She didn’t deny that the whole situation was screwed up, but it wouldn’t do any of them any good if they killed each other. At the least it would make the plan she’d come up with while she laid in the hospital triage room useless. All she had to do was remove the temptation from Sam’s life.

Coming out of her thoughts Maggie realized that Dean had already made it to the living room. Catching up with her brother in the living room, Maggie grabbed Dean by the wrist to slow him down, “Bring him back in one piece. We’ll figure it out from there.”

Dean nodded tersely, grabbing his jacket and pushed past a confused Bobby who’d just come in from the yard.

“What the hell has got that boy on the warpath?” Bobby asked.

“He’s gone to fight for his family,” Maggie said, turning to go back upstairs.

* * *

Maybe it was a foolish idea, but Maggie felt that if the she could do this one thing that it would be worth it. Pushing past the aching in her side, she trekked across the grassy field for the line of trees with a bag clutched in her hand. It contained everything she would need to make this work.

It’d been a difficult morning of explanations from both her and Bobby that left her in silent tears. Bobby had told her everything he knew, with slight reluctance on his part and firm insistence on Maggie’s. If she was to succeed, then she needed to know everything she could.   

She’d waited well into the afternoon for Bobby to go out to his shop, then she was up and scurrying to his study in search of what she needed. Referencing the proper book, she gathered the ingredient to summon Ruby. The only hard part was where to do it that would not be too far from Bobby’s but outside the warding he’d set up around the property. The only place that came to mind was the treehouse.

Reaching her destination, she went to work setting up the circle below the treehouse. Taking a deep breath Maggie spoke the latin incantation and lit ingredients in the brass bowl.

* * *

The sun was dragging low in the sky when Bobby came into the house, wiping the sweat from his brow. Calling out for Maggie to see if she’d like to get a pizza for dinner, he was met with silence. He wondered if she might be dozing in the chair she’d planted herself in at his insistence, so that she could rest. Stepping into his study he was surprised to see drawers left open and a couple of books he’d left on the corner of his desk missing. Searching the contents of one of the drawers he found that there were some specific items missing. Items that could mean one thing. Someone was going to do a summoning. “Balls,” he hissed as he grabbed his shotgun loaded with rock salt and headed outside.

Maggie wouldn’t dare do this too close to the house and he wasn’t sure if she knew the rest of the property enough to go too far. He reached the last of the broken down cars when a moment of intuition snuck up on him. There was one place that she knew and offered privacy. Setting his jaw in determination he turned sharply and headed toward the trees.

* * *

Ruby manifested without fanfare but roll of her eyes when she saw Maggie standing with her hands behind her back, “Oh goodie. Dean’s little bitch,” Ruby drawled.

“I want to make you a deal,” Maggie said flatly.

Looking around the circle, Ruby snorted, “Wrong kinda demon, sweetheart. I don’t do deals. You want a crossroads toad for that. Not that you’d get much for that soul of yours.”

“Not that kind of deal, Ruby. It is Ruby, isn’t it?” Maggie took a step closer to the edge of the circle, her foot skirting dangerously close to the still wet spray paint, “Sam didn’t give me a description. Just the name.”

“One and the same,” Ruby said with a smirk, “So now that we have introductions out of the way. Can we skip the hair braiding and get to the point where you let me out?”

Nodding, Maggie brought her hand from behind her back to reveal a old leather bound book. The pages yellowed with age. “It’s really simple. You leave Sam alone. Disappear and never come back and I won’t exorcise your ass back to hell where you belong.”

Ruby regarded Maggie with an amused expression before she started laughing, “Seriously? That’s your deal?! Please, not even a hard up newbie would take that. How about this. You let me out and I won’t gut you like a fish.”  

Maggie tried to quell the clench of fear in the pit of her stomach. Having never faced a demon she wasn’t used their particular brand of persuasion. All that Maggie knew had been academic at best. Maggie tried to keep her expression from betraying her real feelings and opened the book, thumbing to the proper page.  “Now that would piss off Sam. Coming home to see me dead. If he didn’t kill you, Dean would.”

“Poor Dean,” Ruby cooed mockingly, “Then he wouldn’t have anywhere to dip his wick when he couldn’t find a barfly. I wonder how long he’d actually mourn you before he fucked the first thing that came along?”

The question struck a chord inside of Maggie that surprised her. It was like a deep seated insecurity was found and slammed into her view. She’d had these darker thoughts from time to time but always pushed them off to the side because she believed that what she and Dean had was deeper than simple sex. However, there was something about the way Ruby said these things that made her angry. How dare this demon, the one who was ruining Sam’s life, pass judgment. Maggie fixed her gaze on Ruby and began to recite while unknowingly shuffling a toe over the paint line and breaking the boundary.

Sensing the shift in power before a few words of exorcism are uttered, Ruby flicked her wrist, throwing Maggie away from the circle. Stepping over the line, Ruby stalked over to Maggie who rolled over, clutching her side in pain. “I'm not gonna waste my time on you,” the demon stated as she bent down and pulled Maggie up by her hair until they were face to face. The sudden movement making Maggie cry out in pain, “Sammy boy is mine no matter what you do.”

Before Maggie could say word, Ruby shoved her away and disappeared. Feeling a dangerous feeling pull of muscles, Maggie cried out in rage, frustration and pain. She’d failed. She failed as a hunter and she failed Sam. Maybe John had been right all those years ago. She was good for keeping records but not out in the field.

* * *

 

Bobby found Maggie in the dim light of sunset lying beneath the treehouse taking shallow breaths in between whimpers. Kicking the brass ritual bowl over to scatter the spent herbs, Bobby knelt beside her. “Dammit girl! What have you gone and done.”

“I t-tried…,” she spluttered out, her cheeks stained with dirt and tears.

“I know what you tried,” Bobby said as he ran his hand over her side to make sure she hadn’t worsened her previous injury, “You stupid, stupid little girl! Takin’ on a demon alone? What were you tryin’ to do? Get revenge? You could have been killed and then what would I tell your brothers?”

“It was to help Sam,” Maggie winced as she tried to move into a sitting position.

Bobby quickly wrapped his arms around her and eased her up until she was resting her forehead against his shoulder. “That sounds awful familiar. I’m sorry to hurt your feelings, Princess but you're better than your daddy. So don’t wind up like him. He was a good man but he made too many damned fool decisions.”

“I don’t want to be like dad,” Maggie grunted, “I’ll never be him.”

“Good,” Bobby said as he put her arm around his neck, “Let’s get you back to the house before you hurt yourself worse.”

Maggie carefully rose to her feet with Bobby’s help. Panting, she leaned against his side as they walked back to the house and said timidly, “We don’t have to tell Dean and Sam about this.”

“Don’t you think you three keeping stuff from each other has caused enough damage?”

“I just don’t want them to think I’m a bigger idiot than I feel,” Maggie sighed, looking across the field ahead of them.

Bobby chuckled, “No helpin’ that either. But to be fair you’re all a bunch of idjits.”

Over the next few days they’d received only a brief message from Dean that he’d found Sam and that it didn’t go well. After a week with no word Bobby and Maggie were on edge with not knowing what was happening. It was a Saturday evening when they sat down to watch the evening news that a storm started overhead. It raged and crashed like the heavens were at war, sending a chill up Maggie’s spine. Something was unsettling about this early summer rainstorm. She chalked it up the rattling of the windows and the talk of disasters on the news until she heard it. The slow winding cry of a the tornado siren placed several miles away and the alerts on the screen. A small voice in the back of her mind warned her, ‘ _it’s begun_ ’.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One moment Castiel had been searching the world over for God and the next he was being pulled from his intended path like a ripcord on a parachute. If the humans were looking to the sky, they'd see a shooting star, but to anyone in the path of Castiel's crash landing, they'd swear it was a meteor plummeting toward Bermuda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been a long time coming. Thank you to @atc74 and @docharleythegeekqueen for the suggestions on how Cas should meet Maggie. Even though I didn't use your specific ideas they helped inspire me. Thank you so much. 
> 
> Also a shout out to @thenanahunter, @when-the-day-met-the-night, @helvonashe and @formidablepassion for reading through this. :D

One moment Castiel had been searching the world over for God and the next he was being pulled from his intended path like a ripcord on a parachute. If the humans were looking to the sky, they'd see a shooting star, but to anyone in the path of Castiel's crash landing, they'd swear it was a meteor plummeting toward Bermuda.

Castiel brushed himself off as he crawled his way out of the crater he’d left in his wake. Up ahead was the mouth of a cave at the end of a well worn path. Signs pointed along the way warned tourists of the dangers and rules for entering The Crystal Cave. The most curious part of the signage was one that appeared to be written in chalk on a blackboard,  **‘Lost God? Inquire within’.**

Squinting at the message, Castiel followed the direction and entered the cave. He followed catwalks deep into the interior, his grace reaching out to try and ascertain who or what had brought him here but he found that it was like reading through greased paper. He could tell one of his brother’s was near, but not which one. 

“Cassie, it’s good to see you,” Gabriel chirped with a false cheeriness when Castiel turned a corner and came to share the same walkway, “Sorry for the cloak and dagger routine, but considering who’d be listening and how we left things, I thought this was best this way.” 

Castiel looked around at the milky white crystals growing from the ceiling as droplets of water fell and broke the lake's surface below them, “I understand. If you wish to help us then the host need not know about it. And this place is an unusual amalgamation of forces. I can barely hear them.” 

Gabriel pointed up toward the ceiling only a couple feet above his head, “Nothing like quartz, the Bermuda Triangle and a little boost from yours truly,” he took a few steps closer to the Seraph and lowered his voice, “I can’t help Castiel, not like you want me to. I meant what I said back at the warehouse, I’m ready for this whole thing to be over.” Castiel was about to protest when Gabriel held up his hand to stop him, “However, I’ve learned a couple things that I need your help taking care of.” 

“If it will accelerate the Apocalypse, then I’m afraid I can’t,” Castiel tilted his head in curiosity as he saw the Archangel’s expression sadden.

“No, it won’t quicken it.” Gabriel said softly, “You’ve probably heard that Michael is anxious for your boy to say the magic word and Ol’ Zachey is getting desperate to prove he’s the good little engine that could.”

Shaking his head, Castiel’s shoulders sagged ever so slightly, “I had not. They’ve severed my connection and I don’t listen for fear of them finding me or the Winchesters.” 

“It’s Maggie, you know, the sister you’ve been ignoring. They’re coming for her. Think they can get her and use her as leverage.” Gabriel said, not sure if he could keep up with the pretense of not caring and wanting the end to come along like his family had planned. Ever since his confrontation with the Winchester’s he’d been having doubts but none strong enough to change his convictions. 

Castiel lifted his gaze and narrowed his eyes, “Magdalene? How do you know of her?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Gabriel exclaimed, “Just because she’s not the ‘Righteous Man’ doesn’t mean she’s not worth notice. Have you even spoken to her?”

“We have exchanged greetings after she initially threatened to exorcise me,” Castiel replied, “Dean thought it was quite humorous that she initially thought I was a demon.”

Gabriel snorted. He could imagine her doing something like that. Maggie always struck him as being the type of human that would stare at an oncoming storm and demand it go back to where it came from if it meant protecting her loved ones. “Is that all or did you notice anything about her?”  

Remaining silent, Castiel simply nodded. He had seen it and what he’d been taught was confirmed. This latest generation of Winchesters were each a vessel for the archangels. 

“Then you know why I called you here,” Gabriel said as he turned to stare at the pool of water beneath the walkway.   

Castiel regarded his brother for a moment and marveled at seeing a spark of something in Gabriel’s grace that he’d only witnessed in humans: passion. “To ask something of me, but not because she is just your vessel.” 

Gabriel’s expression softened and the hint of a sad smile came through, “No. She is… dear to me. That’s why you need to swear that you’ll keep her out of Zachariah’s greasy little hands.”

“Isn’t that counterproductive to your desires for ‘the end’?” Castiel asked. It was interesting to him that Gabriel was of two minds about the Apocalypse as was demonstrated by this request. If the Archangel allowed Maggie to be taken and used as he said the angel’s planned, then it would bring about the confrontation between Lucifer and Michael. But by protecting her, it would prolong Michael’s search for a proper vessel with no other direct descendants of John Winchester.  

The archangel drew a long breath and tried not to scream in frustration, “Castiel, just promise and don’t worry about my motives. I have my reasons and they’re none of your concern.” 

Castiel considered the request, examining all the angles and twists of logic before finally nodding in agreement, “I swear to protect her as I protect her brothers.”

“Thank you, I won’t forget this,” Gabriel sighed in relief, then disappeared. Confident that his little brother was up to the task while he concentrated on making plans of his own. 

* * *

The Winchester trio had been through a proverbial hell. Maggie couldn’t understand why the creature that had captured them, separated the siblings before sending her through a strange merry go round of bad TV sitcoms. The worst one of hers being stuck in a bad version of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, complete with a love sick vampire trailing after her. Or at least what should have been a love sick vampire. Instead it was Castiel, tight on her heels with every move she made. It was not the most ideal situation, being stuck with the Angel, considering that she barely knew in and trusted him even less. She didn’t care how much Dean declared that he was on their side, after Ruby and Gabriel, she had a hard time believing that any non-human was on their side.

She remembered liking the show she was stuck in and how she and Gabriel would watch it every week; laughing and booing at the screen as the story unfolded. Liking a show and living a show were not the same thing. It was exhausting when every monster she came across seemed to know Judo. At least she got to study how Castiel fought. It had an elegance to it and the look of annoyance on his face when the vampires turned to dust  _ was _ funny. 

What was odd about the whole situation is that there wasn’t an end to the fight. For every demon or vampire that was dusted, five more showed up and it was soon apparent that the whole scenario was meant to keep them busy. Maggie just wished she knew why. 

“This is just weird,” Maggie panted as she leaned against a crypt that she and Castiel and ran toward, her attention on keeping track of the hordes following them, “Who would do something like this?” There was an eerie silence behind her where the angel should be. Turning her head, Maggie found that she was alone.  “Castiel?” she hissed, looked around frantically, “CASTIEL!!”

When it was all over, she felt battered and bruised. In fact, she was battered and bruised and standing outside a flaming circle of holy fire with Gabriel inside. Sam and Dean were angry, she could tell by the way they held themselves straight backed with fists clenched at their sides. Dean gave her a cursory glance, enough for him to make sure the she was alright. 

“I’m fine,” she murmured as she joined them, “What about you two?” 

“Sam might need an ice pack or two. But first we have a flying dickbag to deal with.” Dean said. 

Wanting to get back to business and keep things on track, Sam started the interrogation. 

“Gabriel. The name’s Gabriel,” he replied, breaking the taboo over the use of his real name. 

Maggie’s eyes widened and she couldn’t help but admonish him, even if she’d done the same thing a year before. “Lou! Don’t.” 

All eyes turned toward her and Gabriel smirked, “It doesn’t matter anymore. Isn’t that what you told me last time we saw each other?”

The look on Dean’s face would be one she would not forget and she knew beyond a doubt they would be talking about this. 

* * *

“Like hell I’m going to stay behind while you guys go off on a hunt! Not with every Angel in creation trying to jump you,” Maggie nearly shouted with her arms crossed over her chest as she leaned against the wall outside the bathroom at Bobby’s, “I’m tired of you three keeping me hidden away like… like I don’t know what.”

Dean came out of the bathroom with his toothbrush firmly in hand and a hint of toothpaste on his bottom lip, “It’s not that it’s too dangerous, it’s that other than Sam you’re better at research and Bobby could use the help. Think of it like a homebase and we need all the info we can get on how to put Lucifer back.” 

“Don’t patronize me,” Maggie growled, “You know very well that the research is coming up at a dead end. Every scholar just throws up their hands and waits for the end.” 

“Then think of it as a way to keep you out of reach of that greasy asshat, ‘Lou’. Just because he agreed to help doesn’t mean you guys get to play buddies again. I don’t trust him,” Dean having rinsed his mouth, came back out and gave her a minty kiss before heading downstairs. 

Huffing out in frustration, Maggie turned to follow him, “Oh for love of Christ would you let that go already? When are you going to accept that he was a friend.”

“Some friend,” Dean snorted, “Where was he when you got your ass handed to you by Ruby? Or how about when the bitch showed up?”

“That doesn’t mean you get to treat me like your stay-at-home wife that you get to ditch and come back to weeks later.” Maggie nearly yelled. 

“I never said you were. But you sure as hell are sounding like Sammy when he was twelve,” Dean snarked as he gathered his duffel from the foot of the stairs and took it to the kitchen for a final check. 

Sam and Castiel were standing in the study with Bobby at his desk, each reading a book in an effort to find out any further information on Lucifer and the Apocalypse. They’re attention was drawn away from their research to the fight that’d been going on between the twins off and on since they had gotten back from Gabriel’s little funhouse. The first week they hadn’t spoken to each other after the initial fight. Maggie even went so far as to sleeping in a separate hotel room.

The revelation about Maggie and Gabriel’s association was more of a shock to Sam than offensive. He didn’t have a lot of room to talk considering what he’d done with Ruby, so he and Maggie had come to an understanding about it. Gabriel made it difficult when he’d breeze in while they were on the road and make wise cracks. Sam could tell the Angel’s presence irritated Dean and it got worse when the Angel and Maggie started talking again. Nothing overly friendly from what Sam could tell; just a shared amicability. One he wished his siblings would find and soon. Maybe them being apart for a while would be good for them. 

Maggie slammed her hand on top of the bag, preventing Dean from opening it further, “I am  _ not _ going to be left behind again so some random hunter can call us up and tell me that you’re dead again.”

“Better me than you,” Dean shoved her hand off the bag and continued on with his work. 

Maggie growled and stormed into the study, “Sam, would you please talk some sense into him?”

Sam held up his hands in surrender and backed away, “I’m neutral, like Switzerland.” 

“You would be more of a hinderance and a distraction than assistance,” Castiel calmly stated as he switched to a new book, “More like a camp follower during the Roman Empire.” 

Rounding on the angel, she didn’t even think about it, as she hauled back and slapped him as hard as she could. The resounding crack of her blow and her gasping as she clutched her wrist. Sam was the first to grab ahold of her and ease her down on to the edge of Bobby’s bed that’d been set up since he lost use of his legs. Castiel looked mildly distressed at the turn of events and almost provided her with a healing touch, but stopped himself. If she was injured, she could not hunt and then would stay out of harm's way.

Dean rushed in when he heard the commotion. Seeing Sam triaging Maggie’s hand, he looked among the men for explanation, “What the hell happened?”

“Maggie lost her temper,” Sam explained, “Cas might have insinuated she was a Roman prostitute.” 

Spinning around to lay into the angel for insulting Maggie, Dean found the space he’d been occupying empty, “Cas! Get your feathery ass back here and heal her.” Dean shouted to the ceiling. His attention returning to his surroundings when Maggie hissed in pain. 

“Yep, you sprained your wrist on the angel’s face,” Sam winced in sympathy. 

“Sonovabitch!” Maggie muttered as Sam went upstairs to get the first aid kit.  

“This is what you get for losing that temper of yours, Maggie.” Bobby scolded as closed his book and put it on top of a growing stack, then pulled out another, “Either way, you’re grounded for the near future.” 

It took little time for Sam to wrap her wrist and even though it wasn’t a serious injury, it was enough to give the men in her life the excuse to keep her in South Dakota. The next morning, she was standing sullenly on the porch as they prepared to leave without her. She hated this part, watching Sam and Dean load up the Impala on their way to the next hunt. She felt left out, like she was being punished, which made her wonder if her brothers thought about her like John and Castiel had. That she wasn’t useful as an actual hunter and only fit for a civilian life. It wasn’t until Sam came up onto the porch to hug her goodbye that it really sank in that she’d brought this on herself and vowed that she’d find a way to make it right. 

“You be careful, Sammy,” Maggie said as she hugged him around the neck with one arm. Pulling back she tried to give him a smile but ended up grimacing, like she was in pain, in an attempt to hold back tears, “Don’t get in strange cars or take candy from strangers.” 

Sam chuckled and jabbed his thumb over his shoulder at Dean, “You might want to remind him of that. You know how he gets around candy,” He turned to Bobby so they could say their goodbyes as Dean took his place in front of Maggie. 

“You take care of yourself,” Dean said with a nod at her hand, “Don’t need you crippling your hand because you won’t take it easy.” 

She couldn’t help the wobble of her lip as she thought about the last twenty four hours. Fighting with Dean was the last thing she really wanted to do but he infuriated her sometimes. She didn’t want him leaving thinking she was still angry. Sleeping alone with only her thoughts while Dean camped out on the sofa did wonders for cooling her temper. Grabbing the back of his head, she pressed her lips to his, chastely kissing him for several long seconds. His arms had just circled around her waist when she broke the kiss and placed another on his chin like she’d done hundreds of times before. “I’m sorry, De,” She whispered so only he could hear her. 

“Nothing to be sorry for. I just worry about you out there. So many things are after us; I don’t want you in the crossfire if things go South.” He breathed against her hair as a wave of relief washed through him. He’d had time to think last night as well, even if it took Sam jabbing him in the ribs and giving him a piece of his mind about priorities in their life, “You’re safer than anything right here. When this is all over we’ll go somewhere quiet and have a long talk about a lot of things.” 

“You text me before bed so I know you’re safe,” she reminded him as she pulled back, unwilling to acknowledge he was right. Looking up into his eyes, she ran her fingers along the the smooth curve of his freshly shaven cheek, “I love you, Dork.” 

“Day or night. I know how you hate to sleep without me, Loser,” he replied with a wink before pulling out of her arms, “You take care of the old man. Don’t let him go drag racin’,” he teased as he trotted off the porch. 

“I’ll do what I damn well please and don’t you forget it!” Bobby shouted back.

With a final wave, the Winchester brother’s got into the car and the sound of her engine turning over echoed amongst the rows of rusted out junk around them. Maggie and Bobby stayed on the porch until they were out of sight then silently they turned and headed inside to get to work. 

* * *

The full moon was bright, adding a cool silver glow to Maggie’s room as she curled around her pillow and waited for the painkillers to kick in. Her arm had been aching all day because she had stubbornly refused to take anything. She hated how the stronger drugs made her feel. Finally, she caved and took the pills left over from her prescription from when she cracked her ribs, so that she could actually sleep.

She had just started to drift off when she felt like she was being watched. Sitting up she looked around the room and couldn’t see anyone but the feeling didn’t go away. “I know you’re there, whoever you are. Get the hell out of my room,” she demanded, her heart pounding in her chest as she reached for the knife under her pillow. When she couldn’t find it, she started to panic because she remembered putting it there. 

From the darkest corner of her her room, two red glowing eyes appeared. Maggie, having seen them, back up against her headboard, her own eyes widening in fright. 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Lucifer said calmly as he advanced toward the bed, “This  _ is _ all in your head.” 

“My... ,” Maggie started to say, trying to reason what he meant by ‘in her head’, but the drugs were making it difficult to think. She had no idea who this was or if it was just a dream. Shaking her head to try and clear her clouded mind, she tightened her grip on the knife in her hand and growled, “Get the fuck out of my head and room,” 

“Not until you tell me what I want to know,” With speed to quick to track, Lucifer pinned Maggie to her headboard with a firm hold on her throat and another on her weapon hand. She struggled against him with every ounce of her strength until he started to squeeze, cutting off the blood pumping to her brain. Staring directly into her eyes, he smiled, “Where is Sam?”

Clutching at his hand, Maggie dug her fingernails into the meat of his palm as she tried to free herself. “I don’t know,” she rasped, her vision already starting to blur from the lack of oxygen. 

“Don’t toy with me,” Lucifer snarled, “It’s very important that I find your brother.”

“I. Don’t. Know!” she spat out, gasping for breath as her body fought stay conscious. 

Lucifer studied her, his gaze seeming to peer into her very soul. Snorting derisively, he released her, “A waste of time.” 

Maggie rubbed her throat as she pulled long breaths into her lungs, “W-who… are you?”

“Although you may have a singular use,” Lucifer said, mostly to himself before he reached out once more and grabbed her chin, “Tell Sam that Lucifer is waiting for his answer and I won’t take being denied much longer.” Leaning forward, he pressed a chaste kiss against her lips and she could feel the icy touch of his grace before he disappeared before her eyes. 

Maggie sat up in bed covered in sweat, panting for breath as her eyes darted around the room, praying that Lucifer wasn’t really there, before screaming, “BOBBY!”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean hated this dismal world. The sky was perpetually grey, like a storm was coming. Being plucked out of his time after arguing with Castiel and being dropped in this hellish nightmare was not his idea of a good time. He was having a hard time wrapping his mind around the fact that this was the future and he’d started a paramilitary camp for the sole purpose of finding a way to kill Lucifer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting the rest of this story before the week is out. There's only a few more chapters left and I promised @thenanahunter that I'd finish before I went on vacation. Enjoy.

Dean hated this dismal world. The sky was perpetually grey, like a storm was coming. Being plucked out of his time after arguing with Castiel and being dropped in this hellish nightmare was not his idea of a good time. He was having a hard time wrapping his mind around the fact that this was the future and he’d started a paramilitary camp for the sole purpose of finding a way to kill Lucifer.

It was surreal. This camp leader, his doppleganger, that he started to call Winchester in his head just to keep his sanity, was an ass. When he wasn’t barking orders, he was scowling at anything that moved. Castiel was another shock. The angel who had never looked at a woman twice was now the resident sex enthusiast and drug addict. That didn’t seem to stop the guy from picking up on the fact that Dean was not where he should be. Dean tried to ask Castiel about the one face he hadn’t seen, Maggie. He knew from his conversation with his older self that Sam had said yes and that Maggie was in camp, but he’d yet to see her and it was unnerving.

On the second day of his exile, Dean was standing on the porch of Castiel’s cabin, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He suspected he was assigned to bunk with the ex-angel just so Winchester would be able to keep track of him without actually having to look at him. He tried to question Castiel about Maggie and Winchester’s relationship in this world but Castiel was strangely quiet on the subject; choosing instead to stare at wisps of smoke rolling up toward the ceiling from the joint he’d been slowly nursing. It was frustrating, leaving Dean tossing and turning for most of the night wondering if he could change this when he got home. _If_ he got home.  

Dean was pulled out of his early morning musings by the sounds of shouts echoing between the cabins. Scanning the area, he jogged down the steps to find out what was going on. From what he was hearing it could be one hell of a domestic argument or the camp was under attack. Rounding the corner, Dean stopped short and stared in disbelief at what he was seeing. Maggie and his older self were trying to shout over the top of each other.

It went on until Winchester reached a cabin where a group of people, probably his team leaders including Cas, waited for him, “Fuck off back to your cabin, or better yet, Cas’ and do whatever it is you do. I don’t need you. You’re dead weight anyway.” Winchester snapped, swiping his hand through the air with a finality. If it wasn’t so surprising to Dean that any version of him would be talking to Maggie this way, he would have laughed, because the tone used was like one used on a stray dog.

Maggie narrowed her eyes at Winchester and opened her mouth as if to say something, but snapped it shut and stomped off in Dean’s direction. She glanced at him as she past by, her shoulders curling slightly in defeat. By the time Dean got over the surprise of witnessing such an altercation and made the decision to follow after her, she’d disappeared around the cabins

Dean spent the next several minutes searching for her with no luck. He entertained the idea of going to Winchester and his little meeting of mercenaries but decided against it. He was far too pissed at Winchester and it would probably end up with Dean being tied up again. Returning to Castiel’s cabin he caught sight of a figure sitting in the treeline with their back to the camp. Tilting his head to try and get a better look, Dean circled around until he could see that it was Maggie, her head bent down and hands clasped as if in prayer.

“You’re not subtle,” she sighed as she lowered her hands and watched him with slight frown, “Cas said we had another one of you in camp. I was hoping to avoid you altogether.”

“Am I that bad?” Dean asked as he walked toward her.  

Maggie shrugged as she looked off into the trees, “My patiences for Dean Winchester’s is in short supply these days,” She turned to watch him and jerked her chin toward him, “Watch out for the sinkhole to your right.”

Dean looked down where he was placing his foot and nodded in acknowledgement when he saw what she was talking about. Carefully making his way over to her, he sat down and wiped his hands on his pants, “On behalf on me, past and present, I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Maggie asked in genuine surprise.

“Being a dick.”

Maggie rolled her eyes, “Don’t apologize for him. It’s not your job.”

Feeling the need to comfort her in someway like he usually did when they had an arguement, Dean brushed the back of his fingers along her arm, “I heard what he said and it wasn’t right. No matter how pissed he is at you.”

Maggie turned to stare at Dean’s hand hand before lifting her gaze to his, “You have no idea who I am. Do you?”

Dean smiled gently as he leaned in close, “You’re my Maggie. Older and harder, but still her.”

Maggie let out a mirthless laugh as she pushed his hand away, “Sorry. Wrong answer, but if you’d like the consolation prize behind door number three…” She saw his confused expression and stood with a sigh, “I’m Gabriel, you dick.”

Dean could feel the blood draining from his face as his heart started to race for the hundredth time since his arrival here. “What happened to you?” he asked, not sure if he really wanted an answer.

* * *

Gabriel burst through the door, clearly in a panic, “Maggie!”

Dropping the gun she was cleaning, Maggie turned to the archangel and stood, kicking the chair out from under her, “What are you doing here?” She ran toward him to pull him into a hug, but was stopped.

He held his hands out, and breathing heavily Gabriel spoke, his words running together, “There’s no time, I need you to let me in, Mags. It’s our last chance.”

Confused, Maggie started, “Last chance? Gabe what do you-” Stopping mid sentence, the truth dawned on her and her thoughts raced. Whatever Gabriel needed, it was to stop Lucifer. He had won against Michael. Sam had said yes. The world was crumbling around all of them, and here was Gabriel, her friend, her archangel. She didn’t care what his plan was as long as he had one. Squaring her shoulders, Maggie said, “Yes.”

Gabriel closed the distance between them and gently cupped her face, whispering his thanks as the room began to fill with light. When it was done and his grace was firmly entrenched within his true vessel, Gabriel stretched out his wings, flying off to face his brother and leaving a sheet of paper fluttering down onto the table and his empty male vessel for Dean to find.

Detroit was in utter chaos when Gabriel arrived. Demons were watching with barely restrained glee as Lucifer over the broken body of Michael. The charred outlines of the first Archangel’s wings staining the concrete below his feet.

“Luci!” Gabriel shouted as his angel blade descended into his hand, his eyes flicking to his fallen brother, “Stop this. You’ve won.”

“I have,” Lucifer said, turning around and brushing a speck of ash from his sleeve, “Now it’s just time to let nature take it’s course and watch the humans die out.”

Gabriel looked around, noticing for the first time that the humans that had been lying motionless up and down the street had started to stir. Their movements jerky and uncoordinated. Gabriel’s eyes widened when he realized that Lucifer intended to eradicate the human race using a Croatoan infected population against them. “Lucifer, please not this. It’s not what Dad wanted.”

“Then where is he, Little Brother? I don’t see Father protecting his precious humans,” Lucifer gestured widely around them, “They are vermin and like all vermin they will perish in time. Then there will be paradise.”

“They aren’t vermin, Luci’. That’s the kind of thinking that got you thrown in the pit,” Gabriel said, slowly advancing toward his brother.

“And you’ve been crawling in the muck with them for too long,” Lucifer replied with a snort. With a flick of his fingers, he sent Gabriel flying through the air, pinning him where he landed with the new found power of his victory over Michael. Shaking his head in disappointment, Lucifer crouched down beside Gabriel as the younger angel thrashed against Lucifer’s power. “You test my patience, Gabriel. I had intended to give the entirety of the host a choice but I see now that in order to make them understand, you will have to be made an example of.”

Gabriel’s eyes widened as Lucifer laid his hand on his chest. The touch of Lucifer’s grace against his was cold at first, but the touch turned hot as the older Archangel’s grace started to tear apart Gabriel’s. Maggie’s soul was screaming in protest as the protective layers were peeled away. Her voice, along with other angels’ still in their vessels on earth, echoed in Gabriel’s mind as what was done to him was being done to them. He didn’t know how it was being done, but Lucifer was burning out all their graces. “Lucifer. D-don’t…” Gabriel wailed as pain lanced through him.

“I’m sorry, Gabriel. If you’d kept hiding with those pagan abominations, this would not be happening. It’s such a waste of a true vessel,” Lucifer said with a frown. The last lash of his grace obliterating Maggie’s soul and leaving Gabriel trapped in the body of the woman who’d trusted him to make things right.

Lucifer stood, brushing his hands free of some imagined filth, watching as Gabriel rolled over onto his hands and knees, dragging deep breaths into his lungs like they were be his last. “Crawl back to your human’s brother. Tell Dean that his sister’s soul was payment for your disobedience to my will.”

* * *

Gabriel sighed as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and popped one into his mouth. It was a habit he’d picked up when the candy had run out and the stress of living at the end of the world became too much. At least it didn’t alter his state of mind like Castiel’s extracurricular activities did.

He’d told two people that story since it happened resulting in Castiel pitying him after getting over his anger and Dean despising him. Now, sitting next to a much younger Dean, it brought back the feelings of guilt that Gabriel struggled with.

Rolling the lit cigarette between his fingers, he glanced at Dean who looked stunned at the very least, stunned, “I wish I could tell you that she’s in a better place, but she’s not. She’s… just gone.”

“You sonofabitch!” Dean growled, his fists balling up because he really wanted to punch Gabriel, but when saw Maggie’s face instead of his, Dean couldn’t bring himself to do it. “You killed her. But I guess that one more human dead because of you angels doesn’t matter.”

Gabriel’s head whipped around to stare at the other man, his eyes flashing with instant anger. Leaning into Dean’s personal space, he held Dean’s gaze, “It matters to me. She mattered to me, so save me the same sanctimonious speech I’ve heard before.” Standing from his spot, Gabriel tossed the half burned cigarette at Dean’s feet, before walking away, his voice echoing back, “Maybe she’d still be alive if you’d have played your part to begin with.”

Dean sat in stunned silence as he watched Gabriel’s retreat. What he really wanted to do was vomit but instead he sat alone in the dwindling light with his head in his hands, dragging one breath after another into his lungs as he tried to calm down. He didn’t know what was real. Was this how the world would end up if he and Sam kept refusing the Archangels? Maggie’s body forever housing that candy loving dickwad and Sam possessed by the Devil himself.

The following few hours was one gut punch after another. Dean’s older self coming back with the colt and then the drive into the hot zone to confront Lucifer. It seemed like Camp Chitaqua’s leader wanted nothing to do with the ex-angel’s in residence other than treating them like them like any other soldier in his troop. That’s why Dean got to ride in the same Jeep with Castiel and Gabriel and wonder for the hundredth time in the last three days how he was going to get out of this Twilight Zone episode.  

Dean was certain that for the rest of his life he would be having nightmares about that walled garden where Lucifer stood over his future self’s body, snapping his neck. The worst of all was seeing Gabriel in his Maggie’s body dangling from a noose hung from the high branch of the only tree. It was like a parody of the old woodblock etchings Dean had seen of the death of Judas Iscariot, except Gabriel was still gasping for breath and Dean couldn’t do anything about it with Lucifer standing between them.

Lucifer said his peace and Dean didn’t have time to take a breath before he was standing in his hotel room with Zachariah’s smug grin. “Did you get the message?” The angel said as if he held all the answers, “You play your part, say yes to Michael and everything is as it should be. Your sister doesn’t end up Gabriel’s body bag and everyone goes home happy.”   


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean called Maggie to arrange meeting up at the tree house just after 2 am, the time he figured he’d get to Sioux Falls. After a long drive, he parked the Impala on a side road nearby so he wouldn’t disturb Bobby and hiked his way to their spot. He could see in the distance that a lantern already lit the interior. Climbing the ladder, he poked his head inside and saw Maggie unrolling a sleeping bag. Her hair was in a long braid down her back that obscured the snowmen on the flannel pajamas he’d gotten her for her birthday, because she complained of being cold at night.

The last several weeks had been one shit storm of bad into worse for Dean and Sam. Between dodging Angels and regular hunts they were exhausted by the time they got to a decent hotel. Dean considered it decent because it was clean and had hot water that didn’t run out within the first minute of turning on the sink. The only downside is that it was grey. Drab gray with god awful red accent walls. 

Sam was up long enough to help Dean secure the room and then he was falling face first on the farthest vacant bed and snoring before Dean could pull out his phone to shoot a quick text to Maggie. He wanted to tell her about the nightmare future that Zachariah had put him in but he couldn’t figure out how to tell her she was a vessel for one of the most annoying angels in heaven. It didn’t help that there was a good chance that the whole thing was a hallucination Zachariah used to try to get Dean to say yes to Michael. A trick that almost worked. 

Instead of telling Maggie about it all, he told her where he was and that he was thinking about her. He waited for her last reply before dropping the phone to the bed and falling fast asleep. Just before dawn, he and Sam were rudely awakened by Walt and Roy and twin blasts to their chests. 

Dean wouldn’t ever recommend being shot to death to anyone he liked. Heaven had it’s good points, even if they were running for their lives. Out of all the heavens he entered there was only one that confused him because he had no direct memory of it. The only clue was a picture on the mantle of the three of them; Maggie, Sam and himself, smiling and laughing at the camera. It was from a dream he’d had right before he’d gone to Hell. A dream is a wish the heart makes, he’d heard somewhere once and he wondered if there was any truth to that.  

Days later he was dealing with Castiel after his bender, a pastor mourning his daughter and a gut full of guilt. To top it all off, he swore he could still feel the sting of leftover buck shot even if there weren’t any scars to show for it. As he watched Sam patch up the father, he offered what felt like hollow words of encouragement. “It’ll be okay,” he’d said to the man. Things were far from okay and there was only one way to fix it. But he couldn’t do what needed to be done without seeing her one last time. 

Telling Sam that he was getting fresh bandages from the Impala, he jumped in the driver’s seat instead. Peeling out of the parking lot he went over everything that he needed to do before he gave himself to Michael. 

Dean called Maggie to arrange meeting up at the tree house just after 2 am, the time he figured he’d get to Sioux Falls. After a long drive, he parked the Impala on a side road nearby so he wouldn’t disturb Bobby and hiked his way to their spot. He could see in the distance that a lantern already lit the interior. Climbing the ladder, he poked his head inside and saw Maggie unrolling a sleeping bag. Her hair was in a long braid down her back that obscured the snowmen on the flannel pajamas he’d gotten her for her birthday, because she complained of being cold at night. 

Hearing a noise outside, she turned with a pistol in her hand but dropped it immediately when she saw who it was, “Hey,” she said weakly with a smile. “Come on in. It’s cold out and the coffee isn’t getting any warmer.” 

Dean came up and looked around, “It’s getting rickety, isn’t it?” 

“Nothing a little elbow grease and nails won’t fix,” she offered as she brought him a cup of coffee from the thermos. “It’s reheated. I didn’t want to wake Bobby.” 

Muttering his thanks, Dean didn’t take a drink or sit down. He stood in the middle of the small space and took in the lay out, trying to commit it to memory. When he thought he had it, he turned to face his sister. She was still as beautiful as he remembered and this is how she needed to stay in his mind. Smiling, with the hair on the crown of her head sleep tousled and hastily patted into place; she was his Maggie.  “How’s the wrist?” he finally muttered, afraid that if he spoke any louder that he’d not be able to hold back anything he was planning or the tears that threatened to spill. 

“It’s fine. Aches a bit if I use it too much. Bobby keeps getting after me for not resting it. Says that it’ll make the sprain last longer,” she explained as she watched him with a slight wrinkle forming on her forehead. 

“Sorry, I didn’t think...” he mumbled and glanced down at the ground with a false laugh, “The ladder wasn’t as hard to climb in my head.” 

“It really wasn’t,” Maggie said as she dipped down to try and catch his eye, “Dean, what’s wrong? You’re acting like something’s happened. Is Sam okay?”

“He’s fine,” Dean quickly answered, “Probably pissed that I ditched him to come here but he’ll get over it. Always does.” 

“Then what’s wrong? Are you alright?”

Dean sat down the cup and shoved his hands in his pockets, “Not really.” 

“What is it?” Maggie asked. She was beyond worried when Dean looked at her. He was acting like there was something he didn’t want to tell her and that never was good with their family. 

“Look I have no illusions, okay?  I know the life that I live. I know how that’s gonna end for me. Whatever. I’m okay with that, but I wanted you to know... that when I do picture myself happy... It’s with  _ you _ ,” Dean let out a shuddered breath and looked down again, not wanting to see Maggie’s reaction.

“What?” Maggie breathed out before grabbing her brother’s face and pulling it up to look at her, “De, you’re scaring me. Tell me what’s happened?” 

Dean took her hands in his and pulled them down, clutching them tight, “Things are about to get bad, Mags. Real bad, but don’t worry. I’m gonna make arrangements for you. So that you’re safe, Bobby too.” 

Maggie remained silent as she tried to make sense of what he was saying and then it all fell into place. His strange call in the middle of the night, having her come out here, this was him saying goodbye. “You’re going to say ‘yes’, aren’t you?” When he didn’t reply, Maggie couldn’t stop the tears. Most times she hated how easily she cried but she didn’t care right now, “Please Dean, Don’t. Don’t do it. I’ll find a way. We all will.” 

“I have to,” Dean pulled his hands from hers and took a step back, “I have to make this right.” 

“No, you don’t,” Maggie pleaded as she tried to take hold of his arm but he pulled it back, “Just stay here. We’ll hide away, you, me and Sammy. Let the angels sort it out themselves.” 

“I can’t,” Dean closed his eyes to block out the image of his sister bargaining with him for his own life, “You have to move on. Let me go and move on, Maggie.” 

“NO!” she shouted as she grabbed the lapels of his worn leather jacket, “I waited nearly ten years for you and I won’t let you go now. I’m never letting you go, Dean. You only see yourself happy with me? Well I’m not whole without you. Please don’t leave me again.” 

Dean opened his eyes long enough to cup her face in his hands and kiss her. Pouring every ounce of love he had for her into that simple gesture. When he broke the kiss, he pressed his lips to her forehead, “I love you, Magdalene Winchester. I wish I could have married you.” Stepping back, Maggie tried to clutch at him, to hold him there forever if she could, but he grasped her hands and folded them against her chest. Without waiting for her to try again and probably succeed in changing his mind, he ducked out of the door and hurried down the ladder. As he rushed back through the woods, he could hear her crying for him and begging him to come back. 

* * *

Sam caught up with Dean just over the Indiana border, holed up in a rent by the hour motel. It wasn’t hard to pick the lock and enter the room the Impala was parked in front of. Seeing Dean finishing the address on the box, Sam was filled with a mix of disappointment and anger, “Sending someone a candy gram?”

Dean turned around from where he’d been filling a glass with whiskey and looked genuinely shocked that Sam was standing there. “How’d you find me?” 

“It wasn’t hard, I tracked your phone. After I got a frantic call from Maggie, who says you’re going to kill yourself.”

Dean shook his head in denial, “I’m not going to kill myself.” 

“No? So Michael’s  _ not  _ about to make you his muppet?” Sam asked in disbelief, “What the hell, man? You’re just going to walk out like that?”

“Yea, I guess.” Dean picked up the bottle and refilled his glass. 

“How could you do  _ that _ ?” Sam snarled. 

“How could I-?” Dean asked with a thump of the bottle on the counter, “All you’ve ever done is run away! So has Maggie!”

“And I was wrong! Every time, but she didn’t have a choice and you know it.” Sam shouted back and then reigned himself in when he saw that it was only making Dean more defensive, “Just, Please. Not like this. Bobby is working on something.” 

“Oh yea? What?” Dean scoffed before draining his glass and sitting it on the night stand. When Sam didn’t answer, he turned to face him, “You got nothing. Am I right?”

Sam’s face pinched in aggravation, “You know I’m going to have to stop you, right?”

“Yeah, You can try.” Dean choked out, pointing at Sam accusingly, “But remember, you’re not all hopped up on demon blood this time.” 

“I know,” Sam admitted, “That’s why I brought help.” 

The sound of wings fluttering filled the space behind Dean and when he turned Castiel was standing behind him. The angel’s face a cloud of anger as he laid two fingers on the hunter’s brow and they arrived in Bobby’s kitchen within the blink of an eye. 

Sparing a glance at the newly arrived trio, Bobby put down the phone he had to his ear and cursed under his breath, “Dammit, pick up.” 

Sam instantly was on alert and walked toward the hunter as Castiel escorted Dean further into the house. “What’s happened?” 

“I can’t reach her.” Bobby muttered as he dialed again, “She was supposed to be back an hour ago.” 

“Maggie?” Dean asked while throwing Castiel a scowl after the angel nudged him a little too hard into the room. 

“Went on a grocery run,” Bobby said as he hung up when he got her voicemail again. 

Castiel went still as a statue, his stare vacant as he listened, “They have her.”

“They who?” Dean growled. 

The angel unfroze and looked directly into Dean’s eyes, “Zachariah. He has your sister.” 


	20. Chapter 20

Everything hurt but the cold marble floor felt nice. Anything to sooth the pain wracking her body as Maggie laid on the floor, blood leaking from her mouth as Zachariah extolled the virtues of the ‘inevitable’. _Just wait until my brothers find you, winged asshole. Then we’ll see what that means._ Maggie thought to herself as she tried to tune him out.

Scoffing, the Angel crouched down beside her and pulled her head up using a fist full of her hair, “You don’t get it, you little maggot. You’re brothers will play their roles and when they do it’ll be paradise. But not for you. Oh no, Missy. Little incestious harlots like you will get a one way ticket to the pit,” he snarled in her face.

“It’s Maggie,” she spit out, blood dribbling down her chin and a bit splattering his face.

Zachariah dropped her in disgust and pulled out a white handkerchief to wipe his face clean, “It doesn’t matter. In the end you’ll be worm food and your brother will be housing Michael for the final battle.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Maggie rasped out and closing her eyes to appreciate the cold marble once more.

Hours later or maybe it was minutes, Maggie opened her eyes just as Dean was lifting her off the floor. “You came,” she said weakly.

“Always. Can you walk?” he asked as he wrapped her arm around his shoulder.

Maggied coughed once and then nodded, “I thinks so. But it’s a trap, De.”

“Then let’s go,” Dean commanded and headed toward the door of the ‘Beautiful Room’ only to be stopped by Zachariah.

“You didn’t think it would that easy, did you?” The angel’s smug grin lighting up his face in a way that had Maggie cringing inwardly.

“Did you?” Dean replied right before Sam came into view with an angel blade swinging down at Zachariah. With a simple flick of a wrist, Sam was sent flying across the room into an opposing wall.

“You know what I learned from this?” Zachariah asked as he turned his pleased expression back to Dean, “Patience.”

Maggie saw him lift his hand and gesture toward her and then all she knew was pain and blood. She’d never vomited blood in her life and now she was doing a lifetime’s worth of it in the span of seconds as she sank out of Dean’s arms and to the floor. No longer able to hear what was being said over the pounding of her own heart and the excruciating pain, she was able to tell that Dean was trying to free them. Even at the expense of his own well being. When she finally finished heaving up blood it was in time to hear the screeching ring of an approaching angel. She knew that sound, Gabriel had showed her once to test if she was one of the gifted who could hear their true voices. Unfortunately, she wasn’t.

There was a flash of light as Dean drove an angel blade through Zachariah’s jaw. With a final blast signifying the death of a celestial, Dean was thrown back to the corner behind her. Michael drew nearer and the room started to become as bright as a park at noon, brighter even. “Maggie, we gotta go.” Dean said as he crawled next to her and helped her up, “Can you still walk?”

“Yeah,” she groaned as she got to her feet.

“Then go, we’re right behind you,” Dean said as he ran to Sam’s side and help a clearly concussed Sam out of the room. Maggie had to maneuver around the fallen body of Zachariah, that along with a new wave of nausea, she was slowed down and her brothers made it out the door first. “Come on! Move It!” Dean shouted as he pulled Sam through the door.

Maggie swallowed down the bile and blood in her throat and rushed to the door but it was too late. The door slammed shut in her face. Panicking she raised her fist and pounded on the door, “DEAN! HELP!”

She could hear her brother through the door, calling out for her and then cry out in pain. “HOLD ON, WE’LL GET YOU OUT!”

“DEAN!” Maggie screamed as she continued to pound on the door, then the the ringing of Michael’s approached stopped. Sensing a presence behind her, she turned around and nearly fainted on the spot because there was her father. Looking the same as the day he’d kicked her out.

“Hello, Magdalene. We should talk.”

* * *

There had been a blinding white light that made Maggie shield her eyes by throwing her arm in front of her face. When the light faded and she felt it was safe enough, she peered over her elbow and squinted at her surroundings. She was standing at the back of a church sanctuary. Afternoon light filtered in through the stained glass windows casting a prism of colors on the white walls. It felt good here. Like all the weight of the world had been washed away, leaving nothing behind but peace. Even the pain of the beating she’d received from Zachariah was absent in this place.

Looking around, she found Michael standing a few steps behind her. His expression was placid, almost serene as he took in the surroundings. “Where are we?” Maggie finally asked, once she found her voice.

“A place where we can talk,” Michael replied, his eyes shifting to look at her, “Perhaps even come to an understanding of the things that must be done.”

Maggie shook her head, “What is there to understand? You want to destroy Lucifer while taking the rest of us tiny humans with you. But first you need _my_ brother to come to earth permanently. Did I miss anything?”

“You’ve missed much,” Michael said as he stepped closer and nodded toward the altar, “I wish to stop a great evil and bring about paradise, much like this. Every human wanting for nothing but the love of our Father.”

“I’ve heard this one before,” Maggie said with a snort of derision, “Except you aren’t on TV and asking for money in exchange for prayers.”

“Do not play the fool, Magdalene. It doesn’t suit you,” Michael chastised, “Dean is making things far more difficult than they should be. Samuel will say yes to Lucifer and without a vessel of my own, he will bring the universe to it’s knees. So I wish to make a bargain with you.”

Squinting at the Archangel, Maggie squared her shoulders as her heart squeezed in her chest in fear, “Deal?”

“You serve as my vessel and you can have anything, any life that you wish,” he said as he nodded toward the front of the church.

“Wha-?” Maggie asked as she turned to face the front of the church. Her eyes widened in disbelief when she saw Dean, dressed in a tuxedo, standing in front of the pews as Sam straightened his tie. Both of them were smiling, talking low to each other. Maggie’s heart sank when she noticed the flowers and bunting decorating the room. This was a wedding. Dean was getting married. Was Michael trying to be cruel and torture her by showing her this? She wanted to be happy for him, but how could she when she wanted to be the one standing next to him. The whole world be damned.

She swallowed down the lump forming in her throat and closed her eyes to block out everything. That’s when she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder and a familiar gruff voice ask, “Are you ready, darlin’?”

Eyes flying open, Maggie couldn’t believe it. Bobby was dressed in a suit and smiling at her. “W-what?” she stammered.

Chuckling, Bobby laced her arm in his as he spoke, “It’s okay to have cold feet. Never known a bride who doesn’t get the jitters.”

Confused, Maggie gaze traveled down and her breath caught in her throat when she saw that she was dressed in a light lavender gown that trailed behind her. Before she could wrap her mind around what was happening, Bobby was leading her down the aisle.

Dean turned to face them and smiled, meeting Maggie’s gaze as she started to smile back, but then reality came crashing back into here. This wasn’t real. Her family wasn’t there and even though Dean loved her, he’d never ask her to do this. Shaking her head, she stopped a few feet from her brother’s and pulled her hand from Bobby’s, “This isn’t real.” Facing the Archangel standing behind her, a tear slipped down her cheek, “No, Michael. This is a trick and I won’t live in a fantasy.”

Michael nodded calmly as the world went dark around them, while explaining, “Heaven isn’t a trick. These are joyous moments from your own mind. Whether you realize you think them or not.”

Maggie was about to snap back a retort when she heard Dean singing, soft and low. The darkness began to lighten until she could see her brother pacing near a crib with a bundle in his arms. Seeming to realize she was there, Dean walked over and tilted his arms to reveal a baby girl chewing on her fist before leaning forward and kissing Maggie, “She missed you, Momma. Daddy missed you too.”

For the second time in a short span of time, Maggie was dumbfounded. She reached out and brushed a finger over the baby’s cheek. “Sarah,” she whispered and pressed a tender kiss to the baby’s forehead. She’d had this exact dream for so many years. Some of them so vivid that in the early morning light, for a moment, she thought they were real. It was always the same dream with her and Dean settling down and adopting a little girl, just like this one. Maggie had named her Sarah.

Taking Sarah into her arms, Maggie nuzzled against her, breathing in the scent of baby powder. This was their little girl. A bright spot in the world of nightmares that she and Dean had lived. Looking into Sarah’s eyes, Maggie couldn’t help but smile as she got lost in rings of sky blue. “You are precious,” Maggie whispered as she started to rock her, “Daddy and I love you very, very much. Do you know that?” Sarah responded by letting out an excited series of huffs while she kicked her legs, making Maggie laugh.

Dean wrapped his arms around her from behind and laid his chin on Maggie’s shoulder, “You’re staying this time?”

Such a simple question but holding enough power behind it that Maggie’s heart wrenched in her chest. This was everything she wanted and nothing she could keep. Closing her eyes, she leaned against Dean and struggled to hold on to the dream just a little bit longer.

“You can stay, Magdalene.” Michael said, his voice like an intrusive bell, “Stay and your brother’s would join you in their time.”

Maggie shook her head slowly, stepping away from the illusion of her brother and laid Sarah in her crib, covering her with blanket, “It’s a very sweet thought, but I can’t. I’d know this wasn’t anymore real than what you showed me before. And I don’t deserve it.”

“Perhaps I was wrong in giving you what you’ve never known.” Michael sighed, waving his hand and transporting them to a place that looked like the field outside of Bobby’s salvage yard, the treehouse from her youth only a few yards away. Maggie heard a whistle from the base of the trees and saw Sam and Dean, just as she remembered them from the day they finished rebuilding the treehouse, waving her to come to them, to come home.  Michael moved to stand next to her, regarding her profile as she struggled to keep from running toward them. “A small word and you will stay here, forever with your family. Nothing to take you from them again.”

“Except for your war,” Maggie said, her voice thick and tight with unshed tears as she watched Sam throw a playful punch to Dean’s shoulder which resulted in the eldest chasing him. “I can’t let Sammy take on Lucifer alone,” she said mainly to herself. She loved Sam just as much, albeit differently, as Dean. Regardless of the way John split them up, Winchester’s never left family behind. Or they shouldn’t. Rounding on Michael, she took a deep breath and cleared her throat, “I come with you. Ride along until the end and when you win, you leave my body and mind just as as it is today. And you save Sam and Dean, no matter what, then leave us alone. Bobby too.”

Michael raised a single eyebrow and tilted his head, “You think to bargain with me like a fishmonger?”

“I think I bargain with a being who has reached the bottom of his list of choices,” Maggie replied. “Do we have a deal, Michael?”

The Archangel considered her for a moment before nodding, “My word is given. Consent to be my vessel and all that you’ve asked will be.”

Maggie took one last longing look toward her brothers and the treehouse, “Yes… I consent.”

* * *

After Van Nuys, Dean wasn’t the same and truth be told neither was Sam. They drove silently back to South Dakota, each of them blaming themselves for Maggie’s abduction. When they told Bobby, the older man was silent for a long time before finally pulling out a bottle of Johnny Walker from the bottom drawer of his desk and poured a generous portion for each of them. The three of them drank silently until Dean took his glass to drink alone on the back porch. The next several days were filled with either silence or bickering between the Winchester boys over the simplest things.

A week after Maggie’s disappearance, there was a fluttering sound of a thousand wings in flight before Gabriel appeared on the front porch just before sunset. He looked like he flown through gale force winds, leaving his hair wind tousled and his clothes torn in places. Storming into the house, he leveled a glare at the Winchesters. “You two had one job. One! But you managed to screw up instructions that were so simple that they could be packed in an Ikea box and sold as furniture. How hard was it to keep Michael from gaining a vessel that could house him for more than five minutes?” he growled as he began to pace around the room.

“We didn’t know that she’d be targeted,” Sam tried to explain to the irritated Archangel.  

“OH BULL!” Gabriel shouted, “Castiel knew damned well that she was being watched.”

“That’s news to us. And in case you didn’t notice, Cas hasn’t been exactly up to snuff or around to be sharing deep family secrets. For all we know he’s dead.” Dean scowled at Gabriel, “And what about you? Where was your ass in all this?”

“Running interference, you moron.” Gabriel said with a roll of his eyes, “Do you have any idea what it takes to evade the host when you’re like a giant neon sign screaming ‘Archangel over here!’?” Frustrated and far more tired than a being of his type should be, Gabriel flopped down into the nearest chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I should have packed her up and stuck her in a pocket dimension until this blew over.”

“And leave us to do the heavy lifting,” Dean huffed.

“Calm down, boy,” Bobby warned, “Taking pot shots at each other isn’t going to get her back.”

“Nothing is,” Gabriel said quietly, “I’ve protected Maggie for years, even when your dickwad of a father kicked her to the curb. And I thought she’d be safe enough with you when she demanded to go back after your ass got pulled from the frying pan, Dean. But no. Now, your sister is being ridden by my brother and it’s all our fault. She shouldn’t have even been on their radar.”

“We can’t change what has happened,” Sam pulled a chair up in front of Gabriel and sat down, “What now? What can we do to stop this?”

They were all very quiet as each of the men thought, finally Gabriel opened his eyes and started to speak, “We need to get Luci back in the cage but you can’t go in the front, so you’ll have to go in the back door. And for that you’ll need a key. You already have part of it. Now all you need to do is get the last two. The horseman won’t give up their rings easy. But that isn’t going to be half as hard as getting Luci inside.” Gabriel visibly sighed and stood up from his chair, looking at each of them in turn, “If we do this right we just might get her back and stop the end but we can’t screw this up.”

Sam looked up at his brother and had a silent conversation, both of them having their doubts about the plan and it’s source. Dean appeared to be the least convinced of any of it.

Bobby pulled off his cap and scratched his head as he thought about it, “Well, you boys said we needed a miracle. No one said it’d be easy.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now Dean was alone in the Impala for the first time in a long while and as Dean drove to the cemetery all he could hear were Castiel’s words ringing in his head. "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it dear readers. Thank you so much for staying with me and this fic. You all have been fantastic. 
> 
> Warnings for this Chapter: Character Death, Serious Angst. I'm not even joking. I’m sorry but I’m not ashamed.
> 
> A special thanks to the peeps who've been my cheerleaders, sounding boards and beta's for this whole thing. 
> 
> Hel: Without you there would be twenty two words for a one word action and listening to me ramble and waffle on ideas over the months.  
> Lan: For gasping while your read this on call. It's how I knew it was good. :P  
> Nana: For reading this through and being the best RP partner.  
> Foop: You're the bees knees.  
> Roo: For all the flailing and being you.  
> Ry: You're pointers were beyond helpful.   
> Luci: For being the first one to drag me into writing something longer than drabbles.

Easy wasn’t the word Dean would ever use for what they’d ultimately planned. Sam saying yes to Lucifer so he could wrestle control long enough to throw Lucifer back into the cage. It was a terrible plan from beginning to finish, but it was all they had.

Gabriel even agreed it was the last resort and it was all they had left. If he stepped one foot on the battlefield there could be repercussions that were so far reaching that he couldn’t fathom how badly it’d turn out. “Two of my brothers fighting is bad enough. Add me into the mix and we might as well kiss the universe goodbye,” was what he’d told Bobby the night before Sam made the final decision and Castiel arrived from his stay in the hospital.

Now Dean was alone in the Impala for the first time in a long while and as Dean drove to the cemetery all he could hear were Castiel’s words ringing in his head. _"All you'll see out there is Michael using your sister to kill your brother."_  Dean knew that but he couldn’t let them, either of them die alone. He had to try to get through to them and put things back they way they were supposed to be. He glanced at the picture of the three of them that he’d wedged in the crease of the Impala’s dash and swore that he’d find a way. No matter what.

* * *

A crow cawed as it flew over Lucifer’s head, the archangel tracking its path in wonder. How he loved his father’s creations, all except Man. Michael’s arrival was heralded by the sound of a thousand wings beating in chorus as he landed.

Lucifer looked at Michael, his Vessel screaming at him not to kill his sister and he sighed. He didn’t want to kill his brother. “Michael,” Lucifer greeted courteously.

“Lucifer, It’s good to see you,” Michael replied, his vessel’s hair looked wild and unkempt as if the archangel couldn’t be bothered with such frivolities as vanity when he had a destiny to fulfill.

“Brother, let’s just walk off the chessboard. Pretend we don’t have to do this. We don’t... We don’t need to fight,” Lucifer said, imploring with his brother for the last time.

Michael was tempted, sorely tempted. There was a time, long ago when they were happy. Together and unstoppable, he wanted that back, but isn’t that why the humans called Lucifer ‘The Tempter’. The one to lead you away from the path of righteousness, “I’m sorry, Lucifer,” Michael stated plainly, having decided to remain faithful, “I can’t do that, I’m the good son and I have my orders.”

“Forget about all of that!” Lucifer insisted. “You don’t _have_ to remain loyal to Him. He ran off! Decided _we_ weren’t worth his time anymore! Why remain loyal to an absent Father? Why?”

“You know why,” Michael replied, irritated that this was even up for discussion, “Because I have no choice after what you did. You think I’m going to rebel? Now? I’m not like you.”

“Right,” Lucifer said bitterly. “Gotta remain loyal to someone who was hardly there for you because it’s what is _right_ and _good_ in the world. Did you ever think that the reason why I exist is because dear ol’ Dad _wanted_ the Devil? And of course, who better than to make the most _hated_ creature in creation than his favorite son? And they say I’m the prideful one. We both know, Michael, that if pride’s my sin, then jealousy is yours.”

Michael scoffed, a slight disappointed frown changing his stoic expression, “You never change, little brother. Blaming me, Father, everyone except for yourself. You betrayed me...us. And for what?” Michael shook his head, “You are a monster, Lucifer. And I have to kill you.”

Lucifer steeled his jaw. “If that’s the way it’s got to be… Then I’d like to see you try.”

They circled around each other, neither making any move to strike first and after what seemed like an eternity passing, Michael was about lunge when the roar of an engine revving disturbed the stillness of the cemetery. Looking toward the sound, Michael witnessed a black vehicle pull in with music blasting out of the open windows and his true vessel behind the wheel.

Coming to a stop a scant few feet from the Archangels, Dean Winchester cut the engine and stepped out, “Hey, We need to talk,” he said with all the arrogance he’d displayed ever since Lucifer’s rising.

Sighing, Michael pointed at the eldest Winchester, “This no longer concerns you. You’ve got no right to be here.”

“Maggie, darlin’ if you’re in there, I’ll be with you in a second but right now I need to talk to Sam,” Dean said, nodding to his brother.

“Magdalene isn’t home right now,” Michael snarled as he started to advance on Dean, “Now listen up, you little maggot, You are no longer a part of this story!”

“Hey! Assbutt!” A gravelly voice sounded off from the side just before a flaming bottle careened through the air and smashed against Michael. Covered instantaneously in flames, the Archangel shrieked in pain before disappearing in a cloud of sparks.

Dean was shocked, he had no idea why Castiel or Bobby had followed him but there they were, in the thick of it all and facing what looked to be a very pissed off Archangel.

“He’ll be back and upset, but you have your five minutes,” Castiel quickly explained.

“Did you just. . . _Molotov_ my brother with holy fire??” Lucifer asked incredulously, turning to look at Castiel.

“Um...no?” Castiel nervously backed away, knowing that he had made an error in judgement but willing to do so to give Dean a chance.

“No one dicks with Michael but me,” Lucifer said. He raised his hand and snapped his fingers. Castiel exploded, and Lucifer smiled in satisfaction.

Dean squared his shoulders and turned to face Lucifer, “Sammy? You in there?”

“You know…” Lucifer hissed as he turned on Dean, “I tried to be nice...for Sammy’s sake,” grabbing Dean’s jacket, Lucifer jerked him forward, “But you are such a pain...in my ass.” Throwing the hunter back, Dean landed on the windshield of the Impala, shattering it as he groaned in pain.

Bobby attempting to keep the the devil from outright killing Dean, lifted his gun and fired several shots, each landing into the back and chest of Lucifer.

Turning around, Lucifer scowled at the older hunter and with a twist of his hand, broke the human’s neck and letting him fall to the ground.

“NOOOO!” Dean shouted as he tried to reach out for Bobby.

“Yes,” Lucifer hissed as he grabbed Dean’s legs and pulled him off the hood of the Impala and began landed a solid punch across Dean’s jaw.

Dean stumbled back against the Impala, spitting blood onto the grass. “Sammy? Are you in there?”

“Oh, he’s in here, all right.” Lucifer connected another blow to the side of Dean’s face, “And he’s gonna feel the snap of your bones.” The angel’s fist collided with Dean once more, dropping the hunter to the ground. “Every single one.” Hauling Dean to his feet, Lucifer pushed him up against the car and smirked, “We’re gonna take our time.” Blow after blow rained down on Dean after that, each one breaking a bone and splitting skin open until the hunter’s face was covered in blood.

Reaching out, Dean grasped at Lucifer’s jacket, wanting to reassure his brother, “Sam, it's okay. It's okay. I'm here. I'm here. I'm not gonna leave you.” Dean earned two more brutal strikes to his head for that, “I’m not gonna leave either of you.”

Lucifer raised his fist as if to punch the ever living bejesus out of Dean, but his fist stopped short as the sun caught his eye and he was distracted by something in the backseat of the Impala. The little green army man stuck in the ashtray. Lucifer stared as Sam’s memories rushed through his mind, and his fist unclenched when Sam regained control over his body.

“It’s okay, Dean. It’s going to be okay. I’ve got him,” Sam panted out. Reaching into his pocket, Sam pulled out the horsemen's rings and threw them to the ground. Sam recited the words he had committed to memory, “Bvtmon tabges babalon!”  

He watched in horrified fascination as a maw split in the soil and sucked inward. A hellish vortex of wind pulling everything light weight into the gaping hole as the sounds of Hell echoed out. Looking back to Dean he silently apologized for everything and took a step toward the gate.

“Sam!” Michael called out, Maggie’s body pristine and unmarred, “It’s not going to end this way. Step back.”

“You’re going to have to _make_ me!” Sam challenged the Archangel, knowing that if he wasn’t stopped as well no one would be safe once Lucifer was gone.

“I have to fight my brother, Sam! Here and Now! It’s my destiny!” Michael shouted above the roar of the wind.

Within Michael, Maggie’s soul struggled against the bonds around her as she screamed at the Archangel, _“THIS IS NOT PART OF THE DEAL! YOU PROMISED!”_ The sudden surge of anger and desperation from her was enough to shock Michael. He’d witnessed the anger of humans before but had never been so intimately touched by it and it weakened his hold just enough that Maggie pushed her way to the surface, taking control once more.

Sam braced himself and took the remaining steps back, opening his arms and fighting every instinct that screamed not to jump as he let go and fell into the pit.

Maggie’s eyes widened when she realized that Sam was going through with it. Shouting, she rushed forward and threw her arms around him. She couldn’t let him do this alone. Not her baby brother. Squeezing her eyes shut, she silently begged Dean to forgive her as they toppled over the edge.  Unheard by either of them was Dean screaming his denial.

Dean watched in disbelief as his family was swallowed up and in a flash of bright light, were gone. Making a sound like a wounded animal, he crawled to the now undisturbed earth and pounding his fists against it, “No..no...not both. You can’t take both!” he cried out, inconsolable in his grief. “Not both!” he bellowed as his head dropped down between his hands, unknowing that Castiel had miraculously returned or that Bobby wasn’t dead and had tears of his own trailing down his face. He wouldn’t have cared if he did. How could he go on without Sammy or his Maggie?

* * *

_“No..no..not both of them!” Dean cried out as he dug his fingers into the old, putrid soil, pulling up clumps of worms and grass. He continued digging, his fingers caking with muck as crushed worms mixed in, until the hole opened and he fell. Long and dark was the descent until he was landed on the rack where Alastair had tortured him. “Maggie! Sam!” he shouted, unable to move as his cries adding to the cacophony of the damned._

_“Maggie isn’t here,” a sickening, saccharine voice said in his ear, one that sounded so much like hers but dark and sensual in way that she never was in life. Dean looked and there stood Maggie, her eyes as black as onyx and covered in blood. Grinning maniacally, she lifted a curved blade and was about to apply it to his flesh when Sam appeared behind her._

_“Not yet,” Sam purred to her, “I want to show him something first.” His eyes flashed red as he tilted her head back, covering her mouth with his own in a kiss that was perverse and wrong. Too much blood and too much lust, but she loved every minute of it. Maggie tugged on Sam’s hair, urging him on until he pulled himself away, his mouth coated in the blood of her victims. His grin matching hers as he rubbed his cheek against his sister’s. “See Dean. Now we can be one big, happy family.”_

Dean woke from the nightmare, drenched in sweat and the alarm clock blaring out a new day. Reaching over to the nightstand, he slapped the infernal machine into silence and rolled out of bed with a groan. Today was his day off in Bobby’s garage and he would have liked to stay in the bed, but he had things to do. He was going to reinforce the tree house, like she’d mentioned before...well before. He had no intention of using it ever again but it was theirs and a part of him longed to go back to those days when it was him, her and Sam against the world and stuffing themselves with s'mores.

Scrubbing his hand over his face, he padded to the bathroom to do his morning routine and questioned his decision to stay with Bobby for the hundredth time in the last five months. He wanted to stay because it made him feel close to Sam and Maggie but at the same time the memories were painful. He’d promised Sam that he’d find a way to have a normal life. One he intended to keep even if it was exhausting to wake up every morning to face the world alone.

Walking back through his room, he stopped by the photo that’d been in his car that day in the cemetery and gave it a half smile, “Morning Sammy, Morning Mags.” He ran his finger over the image of her face and whispered, “Love you, Loser. I’ll get you guys back...somehow.”


	22. Epilogue

A storm blew into Sioux Falls in the early hours of the morning, illuminating Singer Salvage Yard with bolts of lightening that mimicked daylight for brief moments, followed by rolls of thunder that rattled the windows. It was a restless night for Dean. Between the weather and dreams, he was tossing and turning to try and find a way to get a few hours of sleep. The house felt emptier than usual with Bobby out of town for a few days. Dean hadn’t bothered to ask him what he was doing because that was his business, but Dean promised to hold down the fort while the older hunter was gone. A low rumble of thunder started over head and eventually crashed hard enough that Dean could feel the echo through the floorboards. Snapping his eyes open just in time to witness the flash of lightning and the dark silhouette in his room, standing by the window. Dean grabbed the gun under his pillow before the next crack of thunder and pointed it at the intruder.

“I almost forgot what a storm sounded like,” the intruder spoke distant and flat, seemingly unbothered by the movement behind them, “It’s so quiet in comparison.”

Dean’s brows furrowed in confusion because he recognised that voice. It was the same one that haunted his dreams. “Maggie?!” he asked, voice sleep rough with a hint of a disbelief and fear.  

She turned and glanced over her shoulder before returning to stare out the window. “Everything is quiet here. Of course, they’ve been quiet before. He did promise.”

He didn’t dare lower his gun. If this were one of his dreams then it was about to get ugly. If it was real, then what was in his room could be something other than his sister. Right now either option wasn’t too appealing to him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to get some answers. “Who promised what?” Dean asked as he took a careful step toward the nightstand and flipped on the light.

“Michael and Lucifer. Or Michael anyway. Never trusted Lucifer’s promises,” her voice sounded far away, like she was thinking aloud more than talking to someone. Then she turned to face Dean and blinked at the brighter light. When her eyes had adjusted she looked up to his face with a expression devoid of emotion, “Hello Dean. I’m home.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked what you've just read, leave a note in the comment section below. Feedback is the warm blankets writers snuggle down with at night.
> 
> You can also find me on tumblr at madamelibrarian.tumblr.com


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